


top of the tower

by sunarists



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Awkward Flirting, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mount Weather, Politics, Trigedasleng
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24753283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunarists/pseuds/sunarists
Summary: "By decree of the commander, Murphy, Echo and Raven kom Azgeda are to leave for Polis in the morning." Roan mutters quickly, like he wants to get it all out. "You are to be engaged to a Sky Person, a Trikru member and a Floukru member respectively, and to live in Polis until the commander sees the coalition fit to annul you. I will have no need for royal advising, generals or battle strategists as we actively try to avoid war, so your royal duties are no longer necessary."Roan stands from the throne at the final word, pacing slowly past the three of them as they process the news- the room is still silent, but their thoughts swirl around them all, doing all the talking for them.Marriage?They're to bemarried, to live inPolis?And in a matter of seconds, so easily, so succinctly, their lives have been turned upside down.-alternatively, political alliances via arranged marriage
Relationships: Bellamy Blake & Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/John Murphy, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Echo & John Murphy (The 100), Echo/Emori (The 100), Emori & John Murphy (The 100), Jasper Jordan & Luna, John Murphy & Raven Reyes, Luna/Raven Reyes, Monty Green/Jasper Jordan, Octavia Blake/Lincoln
Comments: 44
Kudos: 92





	1. the ascent

**Author's Note:**

> did anyone ask for azgeda!murphy and raven and echo? and floukru!jasper? trikru!emori? no? well you're getting it anyways. 
> 
> tags to be added as the story progresses, please enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murphy doesn't know what he's expecting when Roan comes back from his summit with the Commander, but it's certainly not a proposal from one of the co-leaders of the Sky People.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no chapter warnings except for the mention of alcohol (not alcohol abuse)

Murphy knows something's wrong as soon as Roan storms through the doors of their fort, tossing his spear to the side furiously before slumping onto his throne. Echo and Raven glance at him nervously, their mouths half open as they looks for the right words to approach their foul-tempered king with. 

"Alliance by _marriage."_ Roan snarls, slamming his fist down on to the arm of the wooden throne. "Between three of the clans and the Sky People- Trikru, Azgeda and _Floukru._ Our Heda wants a stronger relationship with the _boat people,_ and to _'integrate the Sky People'_. _That_ was what our _great_ commander's summit was about today. She didn't even discuss the _Mountain Men._ "

"She's doing _what?"_ Is the most creative thing Murphy can come up with at the moment, dutifully ignoring every part of what Roan said after the word _'marriage',_ jumping from his seat by to the throne indignantly. 

What can he say? Being the King of Azgeda's royal advisor has its perks. Echo sits in the general's seat, on Roan's other side. Raven, as their battle strategist, perches comfortably in front of them, with no traditional seat in the throne room. She has her bunkers, where she works with the army. 

"You heard me, Murphy." Roan sneers, rubbing his hands together ferociously. " _Alliance by marriage._ And because our kingdom's armistice with the Coalition is so unstable, we're offering three of our people to match the Sky People. Floukru have offered two, as have Trikru. Lexa mentioned something about the Mountain Men, but no details yet." 

The throne room is silent for the minute they process the news. To rebuild their alliances would be strategic- while Azgeda is strong, the people aren't yet trusting of Roan, especially after his defeat by the commander and the assassination of the late Queen Nia. Their army wouldn't stand a chance against the whole coalition whether the king had full support or not, and they've been on the brink of war one too many times.

Floukru has been isolated from the rest of the clans for far too long- if the coalition is as close to falling apart as it looks to be, then their carefully-cultivated peace will become a forgotten pipe dream, and they'd be razed where they stood. 

"Who will our candidates be?" Echo's murmur is quiet, but it seems to ring through the room until it's all they hear. Roan's face twists like he's uncomfortable- he rarely betrays his thoughts so easily, his careful facade slipping. Murphy feels dread pool at the pit of his stomach, ugly and sour. Raven seems to be equally as unsettled, shifting in her chair.

He thinks he knows where this is going. 

"The commander herself will be partaking in these arranged unions." Roan says quietly. He's not much like his cruel mother- he's a little more in touch with his people, he's a little more _caring_ of his people. Echo, Raven and Murphy are his people. "I can't offer myself up- I am disallowed to marry unless it's to produce an heir." 

His words are bumbling, almost apologetic.

Murphy's smart. He does the math. They need three candidates, and Roan has three sitting right in front of him. 

"By decree of the commander, Murphy, Echo and Raven kom Azgeda are to leave for Polis in the morning." Roan mutters quickly, like he wants to get it over with. "You are to be engaged to a Sky Person, a Trikru member and a Floukru member respectively, and to live in Polis until the commander sees the coalition fit enough to annul you. I will have no need for royal advising, generals or battle strategists as we actively try to avoid war, so your royal duties are no longer necessary." 

Roan stands from the throne at the final word, pacing slowly past the three of them as they process the news- the room is still silent as their thoughts swirl around them all, doing all the talking for them.

 _Marriage?_ They're to be _married,_ to live in Polis?

And in a matter of seconds, so easily, so succinctly, their lives have been turned upside down. 

Before Roan leaves, he turns to face the three pairs of wide eyes that are watching him go, his mouth downturned in a sorry frown. 

"I apologise, truly." He says with the most gentility he's ever expressed. "More briefing to come at dinnertime. Until then." 

He exits the room, his long cape flowing behind him, inching out of the doorframe until it was like he wasn't there at all, leaving the three of them in a shock-charged silence. 

* * *

The trip to Polis is long and quiet. Murphy's mind is hazy as their horses clip-clop leisurely along the Azgeda border, Echo and Raven not far behind him. He takes his time to view the scenery, the trees and hills and rivers that he's traversed since he was a child slowly fading away. He'll be allowed to visit, of course, but it's not the same as _living_ here. He's _leaving-_ leaving for _good._

"What does ' _until the commander sees fit to annul you'_ even mean?" Murphy mutters as Raven and Echo pull up to flank him. "Sounds like bullshit to me." 

"Who knows?" Raven says sourly, sipping from her water canister. She emanates anger- Raven doesn't like being away from her army, from the comforts of her mechanics and subtle side hobbies of science for too long. "You know how temperamental she is." 

"We're getting engaged to _strangers."_ Echo scowls. "Is she _insane?"_

Roan had spoken about their fiancées the night prior at their promised dinner briefing. Lexa herself would be aligning herself with one of the co-leaders of the Sky People, _Clarke,_ while Murphy would be engaged to the other- _Bellamy._

It's a handsome name- no matter how much Murphy bitterly wanted to deny it. He sounds like a strong man, a large man, one with posture, selfless and kind. He could imagine this vague image of a man standing and leading with Clarke.

Raven, on the other hand, would be paired with the leader of Floukru, Luna. The nightblood who had escaped her own conclave- her name was spat furiously around Polis, the once favoured champion scorned. Echo was to marry Emori- a notorious thief turned politician, who whispered her wiles into Lexa's ear, and a friend of Murphy's.

There was one more Sky Person, one more Floukru, but Murphy couldn't possibly care less. It was hard to see the bright side- sure, he _loved_ Polis. The markets were enthralling, the sunrises from the Tower were stunning, and the Sangedakru ambassadors could outdrink him without fail. The sights and smells of the city made Azgeda look as cold and miserable as it was imagined to be, and there was _much_ better gambling in Polis.

But all that mattered, all that he could _see,_ was his impending, lifelong commitment. To a _Sky Person._

"Maybe it won't be that bad." Echo mumbles weakly, but it's a pathetic attempt at comfort.

They don't _do_ comfort. They do _war._

"It won't be _bad._ It'll be _terrible_." Raven says shortly, swigging from her pouch and glaring at it like she wished it was pure alcohol. Murphy grimaced, silently wishing the same. 

Their horses trotted over a particularly large hill and out of the woods that marked Azgeda territory. In the distance, the Tower of Polis loomed against the bright blue sky, uncharacteristically sunny for what was supposed to be doomday. 

* * *

Murphy's room in Polis is grand. Not as special, not as _homely_ as his own abode back home, but grand nonetheless. 

There's a large bed in the middle of it, adorned with furs and pelts and fluffed pillows. The headboard is against the wall, where a tapestry of a map of Polis hangs. A small nightstand sits beside the bed. Across the room is a drawer for his things as well as a cupboard for his clothes, as well as a large, body-sized mirror that lays against the wall. On the floor are soft fur skins, his feet pattering quietly on it as he walks around the room. 

They are to gather for a conference over dinner- it's only a reminder that this is a _political_ arrangement and nothing more. It's a desolate feeling, something as cherished as _marriage_ being defaced for the purpose of trying to mend century old feuds, but Murphy won't complain. He _can't_ complain. 

Warriors do as warriors are told- he, Echo and Raven were told to come here, and here they were. 

His thoughts are interrupted when his door is opened tentatively. Murphy turns to see Raven's head poking into the doorway, swivelling her head around before spotting Murphy, her face flooding with relief. 

"Thank _Pramheda_. I always get lost in this damn tower." She grouses crossly, stomping across his floor, her faded limp making her a little wobbly, and flopping onto the bed. 

"Yes, Raven, you _can_ come in, thanks for asking first." Murphy grumbles before joining her. The bed is deliciously soft, and he fights the urge to sigh as he sinks in. 

He _won't_ enjoy this process. He refuses to. 

"I just went into the wrong room." Raven explains. "The other Floukru kid." 

"Oh yeah?" Murphy asks, non-committal. "And?" 

"Chatty." She wrinkles her nose. "Friendly, I guess. Says his name's Jasper." 

Murphy groans. "Damn ocean clan. ' _One with the water_ ' and all that. Bullshit." 

"But _Murphy!"_ Raven swoons dramatically, her voice high pitched and mocking. "It's for _peace!"_

They break into a short bout of giggles at that- it's almost a nice moment, with the falling sunlight filtering though the stainglass windows, lighting their eyes up with mirth. 

It's broken, though, their laughter trailing off as the reality of their situation hits them once more. 

War was all they knew, and now they were finally being ripped from it and thrown into it's opposite- _love._ _Peace._

"Think you'll like the girl?" Murphy asks for sake of conversation, for sake of filling up the void of silence that seemed to stretch between them. 

Raven sighs, rubbing her eyes. 

"Don't know." She mutters frustratedly. "I'm a battle strategist and mechanic. She's a pacifist and a sailor. I haven't seen what she looks like since she escaped the conclave all those years ago, and we've never met." 

"She was favoured to win, though." Murphy offers meekly. "Maybe she's still got some of that- I don't _know,_ fighting spirit?" 

Raven snorts at him, patting his shoulder sympathetically. "Don't try and comfort me again. You're horrible." 

They face each other once again, stifling laughs that were bubbling up in their throats. It's mostly born from sheer shock at their predicament, the unbelievability of it all. 

"We're getting _married."_ Murphy finally blurts between unyielding giggles. Raven can't hold back her erupting snort either, and soon the two of them shake on his bed with uncontrollable laughter until they're clutching their sides. 

"I'm engaged to the nightblood that was _going_ to be the commander." Raven chokes out. "The leader of Floukru, who I've _never_ met in my _life."_

"Oh _yeah?"_ Murphy gasps between chuckles. "I'm engaged to a man who fell out of the fucking _sky._ " 

This sends them into another round of amusement, their peals of laughter echoing through the room. Murphy's sure the entire tower, _no,_ the entire _city_ could hear them, but he can't find it in himself to care at all. 

* * *

Murphy takes one last look at himself in the mirror, inhaling deeply. He's a little nervous, though he's not quite sure why- it's not the fact that the alliances between the Sky People and Azgeda lie on his back, but if not that, then what? 

He shrugs it off, looking himself up and down quickly. He's wearing simple clothes, unbothered to dress up for the strangers, with simple cargo pants and navy Ice Nation colours. Murphy finds himself fixing his hair once, quickly, before dropping his hand in disgust, glaring at his own blue eyes in the reflection. 

"Come on, Narcissus." Echo pounds the door incessantly. "We're going to be late. If you're lucky, it'll become a war crime."

Murphy swings the door open- he's pleased to see that neither Echo nor Raven have dolled themselves up either- it almost feels like a normal dinner back in Azgeda at the royal table. 

" _Narcissus?"_ Murphy scowls. "Shut up, Echo. Let's go." 

They slowly make their way through the labyrinth that is the tower before finding their way to the elevator. It's an ancient, rickety old thing that only by sheer will seems to stay working- Murphy idly presses the button that marks the top. 

"You guys ready?" He mutters as they begin their ascent. Murphy prays that nobody else enters the elevator as they slowly move up the building, not yet mentally prepared to face the other clan members. 

"No." Echo says stoutly. 

"At least you _know_ Emori." Raven says crossly, slicking back her ponytail. "You guys are friends."

"That's generous." Echo grumbles. "Acquaintances at _most_. We've met on sparse and civil occasions. Besides, do _you_ marry all _your_ acquaintances?"

"Quiet, children." Murphy mockingly scolds. "We're representing the Ice Nation and I doubt Roan will be especially pleased that we make our impression by _bickering."_

Raven groans, making a face at him. "Never thought I'd see the day where I receive a lecture from _Murphy._

"I knew you had it in you." Echo teasingly simpers once before the elevator lets out a hollow ' _ding!'_ Their faces straighten out immediately as the doors slowly begin to slide open- Murphy's heart is racing out of his chest, and he feels slightly nauseous, but he holds himself a little higher anyways. His eyes adopt a bored, lidded look, his mouth twists into a relaxed frown and he fights the urge to stick his hands in his pockets. One sideways glance confirms that Raven and Echo have indeed iced over as well. 

Azgeda training is nothing if not vigourous. 

Murphy fights the urge to scan the room immediately, instead focusing on the woman at the head of the table. The commander is an imposing lady, with hands made for murder yet clean of blood as she idly twists a knife against the arm of her chair. Her dark hair lies loose around her shoulders, and Murphy realises it's the first time he's seen her without warpaint. 

"Heda." The three of them murmur, kneeling quickly. It's a show, mostly, half out of genuine respect and half as a habit.

"Rise." She calls, her voice ringing through the hall. "Murphy, Echo and Raven kom Azgeda. We meet again. Please, seat yourself." 

Her voice is cordial, cold, and Murphy can't help but shiver a little at the sound of her. The three of them obediently sit together, and only then do they let their eyes wander. 

Sitting near Lexa is a woman with wavy blonde hair and a button nose- she looks almost innocent if not for her stony eyes, calculating and concentrated. Murphy recognises her as Clarke. On the other side of Lexa, sitting next to Murphy, Luna- her hair is longer than he remembers, her curls abundant and wild, and her features are sharper. More mature. She seems at peace, only looking mildly attentive compared to Clarke, even a little bored. 

Across from Murphy, sitting next to Clarke, is a large man. Tall, broad-shoulders. His black hair is ruffled, messy and curly above a set of furrowed eyebrows and hard brown eyes. Freckles dot his tan skin in abundance, all over his cheeks and nose and forehead. He doesn't betray any sign of emotion, thought or feeling, his hands folded tightly in his lap. 

This must be Bellamy. And he _is_ handsome.

Devastatingly so. 

Murphy deliberately pays him no mind- he won't be the one to bow into pressure first, and glances over him dismissively. No matter how handsome he is, _Bellamy_ is an obstacle. He's only an accessory, and their union is only for show. 

_Politics._ Murphy would've never taken Roan's offer if _this_ was what the job entailed. 

Next to Bellamy is a significantly smaller man with black, straight hair that fell over his eyes. He looked fierce- Murphy could practically see the cogs working in his head, his fingers strumming against the table insistently. He must be the third sky person- he dons the same clothing that Bellamy and Clarke wear. 

On the far end of the table is Emori- Murphy knows her well, knows her as a friend. She too, like him, is an advisor- they run in the same circles, devil's advocate to the two most powerful leaders in the land. She wears her signature blue bandana, her deformed hand gloved and tucked under the table. She winks at Murphy, and he he flicks his eyebrows up at her in acknowledgement. 

The last person has to be Jasper- his curly black hair is long, but not long enough to hide his sharp features, softened by kind eyes and a warm smile. It's a face that hasn't seen true pain yet- Murphy is a little jealous, at how carefree he looks, humming a little ditty as he not-so-subtly swings his head around to get a good look at everyone. 

"Now we're all here?" Lexa announces. "Good. Let's begin." 

Servers come out from the shadows, bringing them dishes piled high with delicacies from all around the coalition. Murphy's not really in the mood to eat, but he plays with his food idly anyways, his fork pushing around the plate. 

He can feel Bellamy's eyes burning a hole into him, but Murphy plainly avoids his curious gaze. He notes Raven keeping a careful eye on Luna and rolls his eyes. 

"You've all been briefed on our arrangements, I believe?" Lexa inquires.

They all nod along accordingly. 

"The nature of these unions are political." She continues. "Symbolic, even. My union to Clarke will officialise the alliance between the Sky People and inducting them into the coalition as Skaikru." 

Murphy yawns. 

"As you've probably heard, our summit also discussed the future of relations between the rest of the Coalition and Azgeda as well as the rest of the Coalition and Floukru." Lexa powers on, her voice so commanding. She's an almost effortless leader- she shows no weakness, and nobody in the room dares to conflict with her. 

"In order to stabilise the armistice between Azgeda and Trikru, Echo and Emori will unite. Our aims are for Azgeda and Trikru to be able to integrate together like the rest of the clans have- a war between these clans is the biggest threat to the peace of the Coalition. The union of the Coalition is also a defensive measure- if the Mountain Men continue to steal our citizens, we have to take action- this will require more thought, in the future perhaps." 

Murphy kicks Echo under the table. He stifles a groan when she gets him back, squarely in the shin. 

"Peace is an aim of the King too, as well as ours." Echo says smoothly. 

"Another topic at the summit revolved around the reintegration of Floukru into the Coalition." Lexa looks to Luna, losing all the cold strength, instead opting for a kinder, gentler look that Murphy had never seen on the commander yet. It feels genuine, but he has a sneaking suspicion it was all for show, to appeal to Luna and her yearning for peace. 

Lexa gestures for Clarke to interject- Murphy doesn't miss the way Lexa looks at Clarke, so full of respect, maybe even some admiration? 

He'll be keeping a close eye on them. 

"As the incoming newest clan of the Coalition and with Floukru being so distant from the rest of the clans, we believe that Floukru and Skaikru could have a lot to offer one another." Clarke pipes up. "And we offer an alliance via Monty's union to Jasper." 

The smaller man next to Bellamy perks up, and Murphy realises this must be Monty.

"The relationship between Floukru and Azgeda is near nonexistent." Raven chimes. "Our king does not wish for it to remain this way. We too believe we have plenty to offer one another. King Roan kom Azgeda cordially offers an extended armistice to Floukru through my arrangement with Luna."

Luna's only quiet for a second, even though the decision's already been made. It's quite thoughtful of Clarke and Raven, very smart, to give Luna the illusion of a choice. 

"I accept." She says softly. "In return for a promised armistice, we offer our abundant resources due to our territories in the waters and on the shores." 

Raven smiles at Luna- friendly, with teeth and dimples. Murphy narrows his eyes at her, but she pays him no mind, her attention focused solely on Luna. 

He's not sure how this is going to end. 

"Regarding the status of Skaikru and Azgeda-" Bellamy begins. Murphy finally looks to him- his voice is low, deep and husky. He carries himself up high, respectful yet emanating some sort of power. He and Clarke make an impressive team, for sure.

Dangerous, perhaps.

"- as discussed in the previous summit, Skaikru has plenty to give to not only the Ice Nation, but the rest of the clans as well. Advanced technologies, medicine and weaponry, for one-" 

"There would be no need for weaponry if our goal is to avoid war." Murphy notes dismissively. Brown eyes meet blue- Bellamy looks startled, maybe a little irritated at the interruption. 

"There is no predicting the future, and we don't know yet that all the threats of the Ground have been eliminated." Bellamy says smoothly. "I offer myself as a representative of the Sky People to a union between Azgeda and Skaikru." 

A beat. They all wait on Murphy, who's cocked his head at Bellamy. He normally had a knack for figuring people out, but the Sky Person in front of him still remained a mystery. He liked knowing what he was getting into before he was in it, reading the fine print until it was all he knew. 

This?

Well, he supposes he'll have to take a risk.

"I too offer myself as a representative of the Ice Nation to a union between Azgeda and Skaikru." Murphy mutters. There's a smirk playing at Bellamy's lips, just faintly- a little cocky, a little sure of himself. 

Murphy sees it, and that's enough.

Lexa raises her hand easily as a call for attention in the room.

"Thank you for your complicity." She says. "I will not keep you from retiring to your rooms much longer. As a final note, I'd like to remind you that each of these unions will be public ceremonies. The people need to see us as an example in order to truly bring peace between the clans. You will all be visiting your own clan as well as your partner's clan in an effort to understand one another's culture- myself included." 

"Oh, _bother."_ Murphy mumbles quietly. Not quietly enough, because Bellamy's head jerks up and sends Murphy a scathing glare. 

Murphy was _almost_ intimidated. 

"See you all for breakfast in the morning- we bind our promises in blood." Lexa finally announces. "Dismissed." 

* * *

The next morning is awkward, at best, and morbidly uncomfortable at worst. Murphy watches as Echo and Emori bumble around each other nervously, starkly contrasting Clarke and Lexa, who seemed to be deeply invested in a conversation about territory disputes. He fights the urge to roll his eyes and instead sits between Raven and Jasper. 

Raven and Luna, who's picking at her food across the table, are talking delicately- Murphy can tell that Raven so desperately wants to hear about the conclave, Luna's thought process behind it, the pressures of being the favoured champion, but he's almost proud that she's fought the urge to do so for this long. Monty and Jasper seem to have hit it off instantly, giggling over their experiences with jobi nuts. 

' _At least someone's having fun.'_ Murphy thinks sourly, his fork scraping against the plate loudly. 

It's at this moment that Bellamy plops into the seat across from him, rubbing his eyes tiredly. His hair looks even more of a mess than it had the day before, each and every individual curl seeming to stick out in different directions. He's dressed casually, in a loose tan shirt and cargo pants to match, and Murphy can faintly see the outline of a pistol at his waistband. 

"Armed for _breakfast?"_ Murphy asks irately as Bellamy settles into the table, nudging Monty good morning. The older man raises an eyebrow. 

"You're not?" 

Murphy looks at him, deadpan. "You'll never know. I'm not going to hide a gun in my _pants."_

Bellamy sneers at him. "All the better to protect you with, my _dear."_

Raven makes a choking noise from besides Murphy, and he turns to see her fighting a laugh, her mouth pressed together in a thin line in her attempt at a straight face. 

"Don't sound so excited, Sky Boy." Murphy scowls. "One would think you were _looking forward_ to our _marriage."_

Bellamy sobers up a little at the reminder, his lips slanted into a half-frown. 

"Wouldn't dream of it, Ambassador." Bellamy gets the last word in anyways, before tucking into the meal.

Raven elbows him sharply, sending him a glare. 

" _Don't be rude."_ She scolds in Trigedasleng, her eyes flicking towards Bellamy to see if he understood- his face remains neutral, but Murphy thinks his ears are perking up still listening. _"The alliance between Azgeda and Skaikru rest on you."_

" _No pressure or anything."_ Murphy mocks, shovelling a sausage into his mouth crankily. _"Also, there are two Floukru members listening into our conversation right now. Jasper, I can see you leaning towards us."_

 _"Sorry."_ Jasper chimes in, not sounding particularly sorry at all. Monty looks confused while Bellamy's eyes narrowed in concentration. 

" _Oh, come on, Murphy."_ Luna, surprisingly, pipes up. There's a teasing lilt to her tone, her mouth quirked. " _He's handsome, no?"_

Murphy rolls his eyes as Jasper breaks into a giggle- is he being paranoid, or is Bellamy smiling a little? 

He's probably being paranoid. 

" _True, but_ _I can't tell him that."_ Murphy points out. " _His head is already too big!"_

Their laughter is interrupted by Lexa clearing her throat, asking for everyone's attention. In her hand is a knife, sharp and glistening under the morning light. 

"We begin our alliances this morning." She commands. "Binding by blood. A promise to work for these arrangements to the best of your ability." 

Clarke walks up to where Lexa stands, setting herself across from her. They're illuminated by the rising sun, light enveloping them like halos. They look so powerful, like this. 

"I, Clarke kom Skaikru, swear fealty to the Coalition and to Trikru and promise to work to the best of my ability for this arrangement." She says, her voice even. She takes the knife from Lexa's hand, wincing only a little as she cuts a gash into her hand, blood welling at the wound immediately. 

"I, Lexa kom Trikru, Commander of the Thirteen Clans, swear fealty to the Coalition and to Skaikru and promise to work to the best of my ability for this arrangement." Lexa responds, and they clutch each other's hands, their nightblood and red blood mixing together and falling to the floor.

Murphy supposes there's a symbolism to it, but he doesn't bother musing too much. 

The promises are short, fast. Emori has difficulty manoeuvring the knife in her deformed hand, and Echo gently takes the knife for her, slicing into her hand cleanly, surgically almost, careful not to cut too deep.

Luna's nightblood join's Lexa's on the floor, mixed in with Raven's red. Jasper and Monty laugh too much, and the knife wobbles in their hands. 

Bellamy is handed the knife, and the finality of it all slaps Murphy in the face. To break a blood bind would be an ultimate betrayal- Murphy would like to think he had a little more honour than that, so after this? This was it.

No turning back. 

"I, Bellamy kom Skaikru, swear fealty to the Coalition and to Azgeda and promise to work to the best of my ability for this arrangement." Bellamy's face remains stoic as he grips the blade, his dripping hand held up and waiting. Murphy almost boredly cuts his hand open with one quick and swft motion, grasping at Bellamy's waiting palm. It makes him uncomfortable, how their hands fit so easily like puzzle pieces. Bellamy's hand is calloused, large, fingers for pulling triggers and knuckles for combat, but he holds Murphy's hand almost gently. Bellamy seems to look confused, his eyebrows furrowed while he stares at their bleeding, intertwined fingers.

"I, Murphy kom Azgeda, swear fealty to the Coalition and to the Sky People and promise to work to the best of my ability for this arrangement." Murphy echoes, his eyes avoiding Bellamy's figure as they clasp their hands together before quickly letting go. 

And as their red stained hands squeeze scarlet drops onto the floor, Murphy knows that there's no taking it back.

"Thank you all for your cooperation." Lexa says. She's already binding her wounded hand with old fabric, purposeful and delicate even while she addresses the rest of the room. "The first ceremony begins tomorrow between Clarke and I. I will be sending servants to retrieve you for each of your individual ceremonies. Until then, you're free to roam Polis and the tower as you please. Dismissed." 

Murphy moves towards the elevator with a heaving sigh, Echo and Raven being immediately drawn towards him, but he finds himself stuck in the old elevator with Bellamy and Monty as well. It's an awkward affair, the air thick with tension, and Murphy bites his tongue where a smart remark lies. 

"Oh my God, I need to tell my mom." Monty slaps his hand against his head, looking at Bellamy with wide eyes. The older man chuckles, raspy and deep, his eyes filled with genuine amusement. Raven seems to be fighting a smile at the sudden outburst.

"Abby's coming for Clarke's thing tomorrow." Bellamy soothes. "She'll bring a message back to Hannah." 

_Ding!_

The elevator lets out a floor above Murphy's room, and Monty and Bellamy make their way out. Before the doors begin to close, Bellamy catches Murphy's eye through the doorway. 

_"You think I'm handsome?"_ Bellamy says in Trigedasleng, with an accent that's a little mangled but with otherwise perfect pronunciation. Murphy's jaw drops as the doors begin to close, and Bellamy's face splits into a shit-eating grin. Raven splutters with choked laughter, ringing through the little elevator and out into the shaft. 

" _Did you miss the part where I said your head was big?"_ Murphy calls furiously just as the doors close, and Bellamy's doubled-over figure is shut out of view. 

* * *

"I hate him." 

Murphy's pacing back and forth in his room, walking a hole into the floor. Since he'd gotten back to his room from the elevator, the interaction with Bellamy was all he could think about. It was _mortifying._

"No you don't." Echo teases. "You think he's _handsome."_

Murphy pauses in his steps to glare at her, but she just looks back at him boredly. She's grown up with his theatrics, never to be fazed by his sharp tongue and bad attitude. 

"I can think he's handsome and still _hate him."_ Murphy hisses. "Looks and personality aren't mutually exclusive." 

"Oh, that was _hilarious."_ Raven wheezes. "Where did he learn Trigedasleng? The Sky People haven't been on Earth for even a year yet!" 

"Murphy, why don't you ask him?" Echo sing-songs. "After all, he's _your_ fiancée." 

Murphy makes an unintelligible noise at the reminder, his hands tugging at his hair. 

"I'm ruined." He says petulantly. "He's going to use that against me for the entirety of this blasted engagement." 

"He won't be _using_ anything against you." Raven rolls her eyes. "He's literally just promised to work for this alliance to the best of his ability. Making _you_ hate him would be unhelpful." 

"He already _has!"_ Murphy whines. 

"Oh, he was just joking, you big baby." Echo dismisses. "It's fine for you to admit he's handsome. He _is_ handsome." 

"Being a bumbling fool was not on my agenda today." Murphy mutters. "I'm going to find Emori. I need a drink." 

"One, that's _Echo's_ fiancée, homewrecker." Raven sniggers at Echo's affronted reaction. "Two, it's barely noon." 

Murphy's already holding his coat in his hands, looking back at them from the doorway. 

"Oh, it's happy hour somewhere, Raven." He says with as much cheer as he can muster. And with that he leaves the two women behind in his room, whistling a tune as he looks for his friend. 

* * *

Murphy and Emori find themselves seated in a corner of the little tavern. It's on one of the main streets of Polis, and it's busy- warriors, healers, and miscellaneous citizens of all sorts coming in for a drink. There's a buzz of conversation floating around the room, dimly lit by candles and old lamps. 

"An Ice Nation advisor and a Trikru advisor walk into a bar." Emori muses, sipping at her gin slowly. Murphy snorts, even though the joke wasn't all that funny. 

"Is this our bachelor party?" Murphy hums. 

Emori looks at him pointedly from over the rim of her glass, and he shrugs innocently. 

"Echo's not so bad." Emori shrugs. "Could be worse people to marry, I guess." 

Murphy scowls. "Yeah. Like _Bellamy."_

She chuckles with genuine humour at that. "I heard about what happened this morning. Handsome, ain't he?" 

Murphy's frown deepens significantly at that while Emori's smirk grows. 

"Damn you." He snaps. "Why am I here?" 

"Cheap booze." Emori states plainly, throwing her neck back and finishing the last drops of her drink. "Oh, come on Murphy, open your mind a little. Bellamy wants what's best for his people, just like you." 

"I still don't understand why we couldn't just.... sign an agreement." Murphy mutters darkly into his cup. Emori's catches his words anyways, and scoffs. 

"You know better than that." She chides. "We _have_ signed agreements. Trikru is too possessive over their territories, Azgeda remains armed to the teeth, Floukru has _no_ trade with the rest of the Coalition and Skaikru needs to secure status as a clan. Signed agreements did nothing. Now that each of our people are personally involved, the people see that action is being taken. _And_ we're a fallback measure."

"I know _that."_ Murphy grumbles. " _Pramheda,_ Emori, let me mope in peace." 

Emori snickers a little, but complies, patting his hand softly, if not a little mockingly. 

"You gonna talk to him?" She asks conversationally. Murphy groans at the thought of having to speak with Bellamy- he can already imagine the stilted chatter, the not-so-subtle barbs.

"I'd rather not." Murphy says crossly, waving at the bartender for another refill. "But I won't be able to avoid it for long, I guess." 

"How mature of you." Emori coos. "Just ask him how he learned Trig tonight at dinner. Easy conversation starter." 

He looks at her like she's insane, balking wildly. 

"And _remind_ him of my blunder?" He splutters. "Absolutely _not!"_

Emori finally sighs, giving up on trying to make Murphy see the light. The two friends spend the rest of their time chattering about everything and anything but their impending marriages.

It's nice, forgetting about the real world for a while, and they remain in their little fantasy for the duration of their walk back to the tower, the city's bustle starting to say good night as the sun sets over the tower. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come talk to me on twitter @505daytime or tumblr @oliivverwood


	2. a rooftop view

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The marriages are official, finally, and Murphy doesn't quite know how to feel about any of it.  
> Whatever his emotions might be, he'll keep it to himself.  
> Like a good little Azgeda soldier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI chapter two is very murphamy less of the other ships because this is a murphy POV but.... expect more.... esp seamech and clexa nashun

Murphy's shocked when he approaches the packed Polis city square, slightly hungover from his drinks the evening before with Emori. Lexa and Clarke have deliberately made the celebration public for all the citizens to see. There's a large clearing, in the middle, and he shoves his way to the front of the crowd, ignoring irritated grunts as he raises his elbows. 

" _Murphy!"_ Echo hisses, poking him in the ribs. "You're representing Azgeda, stop being rude." 

"I'm _not."_ He says petulantly, but drops his arms to his side as he finds himself at the front of the people, smiling proudly at her. Echo rolls her eyes, but doesn't protest as they get to the seating area for the ambassadors. 

Raven is already waiting, beckoning them over- Luna is seated on the other side of her, legs crossed and people-watching idly. Murphy scowls when he realises that the free seat is flanked by Bellamy on the other end, and woefully waves goodbye to Echo as he stomps over and slumps into the chair. 

"Good morning to you too, sunshine." Bellamy mumbles. Murphy fights the urge to raise his elbows once more, instead intertwining his own fingers and clutching them until his knuckles turn white. 

"Morning, _fiancée."_ He simpers, relishing how Bellamy flinches at the endearment. His brown eyes flick towards where Clarke and Lexa are supposed to walk in any moment, but to no avail. 

" _So tell me, Sky Boy."_ Murphy switches languages. " _Where did you learn Trigedasleng?"_

Bellamy's mouth curves upwards a little, looking at Murphy from the corner of his eye. 

" _Wouldn't you like to know, Ambassador,"_ he responds quickly. Murphy's about to open his mouth, a witty barb on the tip of his tongue, but is interrupted by the sound of a horn being blown. 

Lexa walks out next to Clarke, the Commander an intimidating vision with her black gown and painted face. The people cheer and scream at the sight of their commander, as well as murmuring quietly about the leader of the new people.

Clarke's opted for a white dress, simple and plain, making her clean skin look even paler, her blonde hair falling down her shoulders in braids and locks- but a white dress was something that Murphy had only seen in the oldest history books that had been saved during the apocalypse. 

"The Sky People kept that tradition?" He mumbles, mostly to himself. "White dresses?" 

Shockingly, Bellamy's voice chimes in to respond. "Yeah. You guys didn't?" 

Murphy scoffs. "White gets dirty so easily." 

Bellamy lets out a surprised snort, and Murphy watches as he shakes his head with amusement before their attention is recaptured by the brides. 

"Today we celebrate the union of Lexa kom Trikru, Commander of the Twelve Clans, and Clarke of the Sky People." Titus announces, his raspy voice ringing through the city. "Their union represents the new alliance between the Sky People and the Coalition. By the end of the ceremony, the Coalition will be made up of thirteen clans, and the Sky People will officially be known as Skaikru." 

Titus drones on about the traditions of the Coalition, and how Skaikru was to uphold their promises to the rest of the people. Lexa and Clarke remain stoic, their faces betraying no sign of emotion- Murphy yawns, pouting at the reminder that eventually, _he'd_ have to pretend he wasn't bored out of his mind as he married the stranger sitting next to them. 

"Their agreement has already been bound by blood." Titus shouts. "Now, they drink." 

A servant sips from an ornate goblet, and the people pause and wait for his reaction. When a short time had passed, the servant still alive and well, it seemed that the drink wasn't poisoned, and the servant passes the goblet to Titus before scurrying out of sight. Bellamy scoffs from next to him, muttering something about _"traitors"_ and " _Unity Juice_ _."_ Murphy eyes him curiously, but finds himself looking back and focusing on the ceremony.

"The Blood of Bekka Pramheda, the first Commander." Titus calls, handing the goblet to Lexa. She sips delicately before passing it to Clarke, who does the same. 

"The _what?"_ Bellamy hisses, his eyes wide as he stares at the goblet Clarke currently holds to her lips. 

"It's wine." Murphy states, deadpan. "It's blessed wine." 

Bellamy cocks his head confusedly. "So _that's_ an Old World tradition you guys kept, but not the white dresses?" 

Murphy looks at him like he's stupid. "It's not the blood of _Christ-_ it's the blood of _Bekka Pramheda._ Keep up, Sky Boy." 

Bellamy's just about to respond to him, probably something equally as rude and sarcastic, when Raven whacks Murphy on the leg. 

"Both of you, shut _up."_ She seethes. "There's a _wedding_ going on." 

Bellamy and Murphy, after being scorned like schoolyard children, sit quietly and obediently, eyes firmly focused on the ceremony. Even Bellamy, who hadn't known Raven even a week seemed to know better than to combat the fierce Ice Nation strategist, bad leg and all. Clarke and Lexa are now exchanging rings- simple gold bands that had been carefully curated for one another. When Bellamy doesn't pipe up in confusion, Murphy assumes that perhaps this is a wedding tradition that both their people kept. 

"The union is now complete." The fleimkepa announces, raising his arms grandly. The crowd lets out a deafening cheer, shrieking and clapping as Lexa takes Clarke's now bejewelled hand, raising their intertwined arms for all to see. 

"Sky People!" Lexa roars as the crowd falls silent once more. She glances at Clarke, who smiles softly, a little proudly, and Murphy watches in shock as the Commander returns the sentiment. "Welcome to the Coalition!" 

Murphy hadn't realised how tense Bellamy had been until he saw it visibly leave his body, his tightened shoulders slumping, the white in his knuckles fading away, and a held breath being exhaled. Bellamy's normally straight-pressed mouth is curved upwards just slightly, but the corners of his eyes crinkle as he watches Clarke and Lexa walk back out of the square, leaving their people behind to celebrate. The ambassadors of each clan rise, making their way into the tower as the citizens disperse back into the hustle and bustle of the day, chatter of the celebration the only thing in the air.

"We're next, Sky Boy." Murphy says idly, absently admiring his own nails. "You can wear the white dress, if you'd like." 

Bellamy glares at him as they start drifting apart, their feet taking them back to their own crowds. 

"Go float yourself, Ambassador." He grumbles, before Murphy is promptly dragged away by Raven for preparation for his own wedding.

When Raven finally manhandles him all the way into the elevator, Murphy taps her on the shoulder. 

"Raven." He says, completely serious. "What the hell does ' _go float yourself'_ mean?" 

* * *

The next morning is a blur of _noise_ and _movement-_ Echo berating him for only bringing one nice robe, a robe that was _wrinkly;_ the servants of the Commander poking and prodding at his face, painting him delicately with thin lines of white and blue; fumbling around his room for the ring that he dropped into the plush carpet- a ring that Roan had told him to use for the ceremony. 

By the end of it all, Murphy's sweaty, tired, and abhorrently cranky as he stomps into the tower exit- he already hears the crowd outside once more, with people travelling all the way from the Ice Nation to watch the union. 

Bellamy stands at the mouth of the building. His hair has been somewhat tamed, and if his disgruntled expression is anything to go by, it wasn't by choice. On his forehead down to the bridge of his nose, a dark streak of celebratory paint. He's shedded his black jacket, bare, tan arms exposed. His skin looks even darker, in stark contrast with the white shirt. 

"Not a dress, but I suppose a white shirt will do." Murphy says delightedly as he stops next to Bellamy. The man rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as if a little self-conscious. 

"Octavia made me promise I would." He mutters. "She's always liked the stories about big white weddings." 

Murphy looks at him curiously, an eyebrow perched higher than the other. "Who's Octavia?" 

Bellamy startles when he realises what he said- Murphy thinks he might had not have meant to tell him about this _Octavia._

"You ask a lot of questions, Ambassador." Bellamy comments, his tone even and neutral.

Murphy's curiosity is piqued at that- who could she be? 

He's thinking very hard when the lightbulb pops over his head, lighting his eyes up as he turns to Bellamy with a malicious grin creeping onto his face.

"Don't tell me you have a _girlfriend!"_ Murphy sneers. "You're making me into a homewrecker, Sky Boy-"

"No! _"_ Bellamy cries out, turning the heads of people around him. He slaps his hand over his mouth, tan cheeks flooding red before taking a deep breath and hissing, " _no!"_

" _Pramheda,_ okay!" Murphy raises his hands in surrender, sending Bellamy a strange look. "Touchy much?" 

"She's my _sister."_ Bellamy snaps, huffing grouchily. "Not my- _ugh-_ _girlfriend."_

"You could've just _said_ so." Murphy sniffs. 

"You're a nosy basta-" 

Their bickering is interrupted by Titus, who looms over them, glaring at their antics. His hands are clasped tightly together, his posture stiff and his neck held high. 

"The ceremony will begin shortly." He drones. "Follow me." 

With that, he turns on his heel, pacing out of the mouth of the building. Bellamy and Murphy share an irritated glance before lining up side by side, following the Fleimkepa. They're met with deafening noise, constant cheers that never end- they trail off, occasionally, only to return with full vigour. It's a little overwhelming- it's hot out, there's so much _sound,_ and the feeling of Bellamy's hand brushing against his as they walk is making him a little woozy. 

The _finality_ of it all slaps him in the face. 

"We're really doing this?" Murphy mumbles, cursing the wobble of anxiety in his voice. Bellamy looks equally as queasy, his skin pale under the morning sun, teeth worrying into his lip. 

"We don't have a choice." Bellamy mutters- another blow, and Murphy sighs deeply. 

"Yeah, yeah." He grumbles. "For our people." 

Bellamy looks at him a little strangely after hearing that, his lips pursed in thoughtful concentration as his stare burns into Murphy. 

"Is there something on my face?" Murphy asks irritatedly, annoyance spawning mostly from discomfort. Bellamy comes to with a shake of his head, smiling a little bashfully.

"No, no." He affirms. "You're a major asshole, but we're here for the same reason. We're doing this for our people... don't you think we should make an effort to get along?" 

Murphy looks at him with a shocked expression, even while his mouth is upturned. Titus is rambling about the wine to the crowd, who listen with eager ears. 

"You literally _started_ that sentence with calling me a major asshole." Murphy says slowly.

Bellamy shrugs, not seeming all that bothered by it. "You haven't agreed yet." 

Murphy's groan is drowned out by the crowd, but the sentiment is still there. He looks to the sky for strength, just once, quickly, as Bellamy is handed the blood of Bekka Pramheda- he sips once, his nose wrinkling ever so subtly. He hands it off to Murphy quickly, smacking his mouth to get rid of the taste. 

" _Gon Azgeda."_ Murphy murmurs quietly into the goblet before drinking, red wine staining his lips and tongue like blood. 

"Now, the rings." Titus announces. Murphy scans the crowd- he sees the proud, albeit sympathetic faces of Raven and Echo, and winks at them. It's a gesture that’s a lot cockier than he feels, but the way his friends lose the tension in their shoulders, deflating, brings him some semblance of comfort. 

Bellamy's fingers seem to be shaking a little as he slips the gold band onto Murphy's left hand, the ring bumping against his knuckles awkwardly. Murphy refuses for the Coalition to see how this makes him feel, his hands steady and his breathing even as he puts the Ice Nation silver ring onto Bellamy's finger. 

"We can try." Murphy blurts out in a whisper, looking at their hands again. Their _hands._ Hands that had fit so well together. Hands wrapped in blood-soaked gauze that had held each other's fingers so gently. Hands with rings that glistened under the sunlight, silver and gold together. "We can try to get along. For our people." 

"Okay." Bellamy quietly replies. "Let's finish this, Ambassador." 

He grasps Murphy's hand, intertwining their fingers- it never fails, how Murphy is discomforted by the fact their bodies seem to click together so effortlessly, but he lets his arm be raised into the sky once more, a show of strength, unity, Azgeda and Skaikru, Murphy and Bellamy. 

"Whatever the hell you want, Sky Boy." Murphy finds himself saying back through gritted teeth. He knows Bellamy hears him, because his hand is squeezed just a little tighter. 

* * *

Murphy lies alone in his room shortly after slipping away from the ceremony- Bellamy had been busy discussing details with Clarke and Lexa, Murphy taking advantage of his distraction and creeping up the tower to avoid anyone else. 

Sadly, Echo and Raven knew him too well, his nervous tics and childhood habits that had never quite died even in his recent adulthood, and had barged in not long after he'd finally settled into his bed. 

"Mr. Murphy-Blake kom Azgeda. Speak." Echo announces pompously, making Murphy scowl, before promptly burrowing under the blankets next to him. Raven snickers before crawling in as well, laying on his other side and digging her feet against his own. 

"Your feet are _cold."_ Murphy whines, making a great effort to shove her off the bed to no avail. Raven sticks there like a rock, poking her tongue out amusedly when he finally gives in. 

"Not her fault that this tower's always so _drafty."_ Echo scoffs.

Murphy looks at her like she's stupid, his mouth parting slightly in confusion. "How are you from the _Ice Nation_ if you can't handle the cold?" 

Raven pokes him in the ribs, eliciting a yelp from him. "Come on. Talk." 

Murphy sniffs, pointedly avoiding both of their concentrated gazes. Even without looking at them, he knows Echo's furrowing her eyebrows, her eyes narrowed into near slits, and Raven's chewing her lip, fingers twitching as she waited for an answer. 

"About what?" Murphy says lightly. "The fact that I have two women in my bed after I was literally married only _minutes_ ago?" 

Echo cuffs him around the head, and Murphy cries out dramatically, shooting daggers at her with his eyes. 

" _Talk."_ She snaps dangerously. "How do you feel?" 

Murphy glares at them both, swivelling his head to purposefully to express his irritation to his two nosy friends. 

"I feel like Roan's about to secure a major trade deal with Skaikru because of me." Murphy snorts. "I better get a thank you note, for this." 

To be completely honest, Murphy's not sure _how_ he should feel- should he feel proud, that he's working so diligently for his clan? That his sacrifice will help so many Azgedans _thrive?_ Or should he feel apprehensive, maybe a little miserable, that he's giving up such an important rite of passage for the sake of politics? For the sake of alliances that will almost certainly fall apart once more? 

It's an endless cycle of destruction on the ground, and Murphy's not a hopeful person. One day, he and Bellamy will be pitted against one another, and he'll have to watch his "husband" die at the hand of his sword. 

It's just politics. It's just the way it is. It's just what he's used to. 

Raven and Echo share a glance over his figure- he can't quite figure out the ways their eyes are flicking, the quick quirk in their lips or the enunciated glares. Their own little language, between those two women, and all of a sudden, even laying between the two of them, Murphy feels that much more lonely. 

A rap at the door. The three of them startle at the appearance of Bellamy at the doorway, his cinnamon brown eyes widening at the sight of them from where he perches at the doorway. 

"Am I interrupting something?" Bellamy's eyes are glued firmly to the floor, and maybe Murphy's imagining things, but his face is flushing. "I can come back another time-" 

"It's _not_ what it looks like." Raven chuckles, swinging her bad leg onto the floor with a hollow stomp before heaving herself and Echo up. "We were just on our way out." 

As Echo passes Bellamy in the doorway, she turns back to look at him, behind the back of the Skaikru ambassador, and winks, nodding her head in approval. Murphy scowls at her, shooing her away before turning his attention back to Bellamy, who still looks mildly confused. 

"Friends. Since we were kids." Murphy states stupidly, berating himself almost instantly for offering up even a little bit of information about himself. Bellamy shrugs, and Murphy gestures for him to sit in the seat near the bed. 

"You don't owe me an explanation." He says simply.

The two of them face each other- the silence is awkward, morbidly uncomfortable, and Murphy waits while Bellamy looks to be gathering his thoughts, words barely there floating on the tip of his tongue. 

"You okay?" Is what Bellamy settles on, his voice stilted, ending a pitch too high. Murphy's not sure what to make of the sure fact that he seems to make Bellamy nervous, his confidence crumbling even while he has a good few inches on him and muscle to show for it. 

"I'm _fine._ I don't know why everyone's asking me that." Murphy snaps- quickly, not at all coldly. 

"Maybe because they _care?"_ Bellamy answers quickly.

Murphy pauses, his whole body frozen for a second. Bellamy seems to register his own words, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth downturned in a concentrated frown. 

"You care?" Murphy's asks questioningly, a little quietly. 

Bellamy looks away from him, training his eyes somewhere, _anywhere_ other than Murphy's face. His skin is pinked, his tongue poked out as he searches for the right words. 

"I could." Bellamy finally replies quietly. "One day, maybe." 

It's surprising, how the surge of hope makes an appearance in Murphy's mind. Bellamy's willing to try and _make this work._ He's not stuck with a deadbeat who won't care for him, who won't care for _Azgeda._

"Thanks." Murphy says, and there's not a lick of insincerity in the syllable. Bellamy's mouth curves upwards, a shy little smile, illuminated by the high sun filtering in through the window panes. 

"I have to go talk to Clarke." Bellamy mutters, seeming kind of disappointed in the fact. "But- we should talk. Properly. Just you and me." 

Murphy's mouth curls into a nasty looking grin- this moment had become a little too... too _intimate_ for his liking.

"Asking me on a date, Sky Boy?" He taunts. Bellamy's face twists into a scowl, narrowing his eyes at him. 

"You _wish_." He scoffs.

He gets up from his seat and makes his way to the door silently. Murphy doesn't even realise he's blurted out something else until Bellamy's looking back at him curiously. 

"After dinner." Murphy says. "I'll meet you at the top of the tower." 

A slow dawning of satisfaction, the quiet kind, spreads over Bellamy's face, who nods his head once. He doesn't break their eye contact until he's walked away from the door, leaving Murphy sitting on his bed wondering why the hell his heart was beating so fast. 

* * *

Mealtime seems to be growing into a raucous affair. Amidst all the awkwardness of their engagements, unlikely friendships had popped up as well. Emori and Raven seemed to have a deep investment into mechanics and the sciences, and their machinery-science babble floats over the table often. Jasper makes them laugh- _all_ of them, even the stiff faced Bellamy, who cracks a smile every time Jasper cracks a joke without fail. Luna listens intently to Clarke's stories about living in the Sky, and in turn tells about her own childhood on the Ground in hushed tones. 

It's almost a comforting sight, watching them all interact- Murphy's just happy to see that they can all live along one another in peace- they have yet to reach a disagreement on any of Lexa's policies so far, but he's sure that'll change as they delve deeper into negotiations after all of them are officially married. 

"What's on your mind, Ambassador?" 

The nickname lacks Bellamy's teasing low tones, and Murphy turns to see Lexa, her eyes trained dutifully on her people as they converse with one another. 

"I'm just wondering- if Sangedakru has sworn fealty to Trikru as the ruling clan of the Coalition, and Trikru has sworn fealty to Azgeda, will Sangedakru stop poaching resources off our territories at the request of the King? It's been a longtime issue in the rural areas of our nation, and the people that lose the most are the poorer villages on the border where Sangedakru have been stealing from." He rambles monotonously. 

It's absolutely not even _close_ to what he _had_ been thinking about- his nerves had been in a constant frazzle as the clocked ticked closer to the end of dinnertime, and Murphy would meet Bellamy at the top of the tower.

To _try._

However, he wasn't going to discuss his personal issues with the _Commander,_ and the Sangedakru issue had been on the back burner of his mind anyways.

"You raise a fair issue." Lexa says sternly. "I'll be sure to discuss it with the Sangedakru ambassador at the next Coalition conference." 

Murphy nods awkwardly in thanks- there's not a lot of people existing that he could confidently say scared him, but Lexa kom Trikru was definitely one of them. Not only was she the most important person in the Coalition, but she had an imposing stature, a cold strength, and radiated sheer power. He had seen her in battle only once, when he was very young, and she was only a mere second to Anya, but even then in her young age she had wielded a sword like it was a part of her. 

"I would like your thoughts on these alliances." Lexa murmurs next, her tones quiet as to not disturb the merry-making of the rest of the group. "Do you have an opinion?" 

Murphy startles a little, a choked noise coming from the back of his throat as he collects his thoughts. The Commander was asking him for his _opinion_ on her decree? 

"And be honest, Murphy." She adds on, the edges of her voice softened a little. "I want what's best for my people- not just Trikru. The Coalition." 

"I believe you." He responds simply. "Truly. And I think these were a good idea- of course, in all honesty, I wish it wasn't me that was being married, but it's for the good of our people. Us as representatives and leaders of our nations make for a good fallback measure. And for you to include yourself into these arrangements shows how committed you are to the cause." 

Lexa bows her head ever-so-slightly in acknowledgement of the compliment, a tiny smile gracing her features for a split second, so quickly that had Murphy blinked, he would've missed it.

"Your sacrifice does not go unnoticed." She says kindly. "I hope for the relationship between Azgeda and Trikru to grow stronger via the two of us." 

Murphy's a little dazed, perhaps maybe a little starstruck (though he'd _never_ admit it), when he says, "I hope for that too." She nods once more before making her way to Clarke- surely for another discussion about the integration of the Sky People. 

He's jolted out of his reverie when he hears the scraping of chairs and the clanking of dishes as dinner is ending, conversations being finished abruptly as they begin parting ways for the night. He glances at Bellamy, just once, who's talking politely with Raven, before turning on his heel and entering the elevator. As Murphy presses his thumb against the button for the top of the tower, he catches Bellamy's eyes through the closing doors, warm brown meeting icy blue before their connection is broken. 

* * *

It's a warm night, though the breeze is cool, up here, blowing away the humidity that normally plagues the city. The view of Polis from the roof of the tower is beautiful, and Murphy can't seem to tear his eyes away from the lights that flicker on in the windows as the sun sets on the horizon. It's peaceful, and he finally allows himself to breathe. 

"Hey." 

Bellamy's shuffling over a little awkwardly, his hands jammed in his pockets. The wind blows through his hair easily, and he wrinkles his nose a little when the breeze gets a little too sharp. 

"Hi." Murphy says shortly, unsure what else to say. He'd known this would be a painfully uncomfortable conversation, a painfully uncomfortable method of _getting_ _along._ But it had to be done. It was a part of his sacrifice. 

Bellamy seems to be breath-taken by the view as soon as it comes to his attention, his mouth dropping open and the lights of the city reflecting in his glistening eyes. Murphy allows him this moment- after all, the Sky and the Ground were two different worlds, and Bellamy Blake had never seen the sunset from the top of the tower before.

"I'll never get used to it." Bellamy admits, still gazing over the city with deep admiration. "The Ground." 

"Yeah?" 

Murphy invites him to speak more, leaning against the ledge of the roof and crossing his arms. Bellamy props himself against the ledge, chewing his lip thoughtfully. 

"We never thought it'd be _us,_ that got to go the Ground." He continues softly. "It's always the next generation. Or the next. Or the next. Nobody ever believes it's going to be them. And you just- you hear about it in school, you see old videos, you see Earth from the windows- so close but so far. The Ground's always been the dream" 

Bellamy smiles softly, deep in a distant feeling that Murphy couldn't even begin to understand. 

"And then it was us." He says. "The circumstances were shit, obviously- they sent down a hundred teenage prisoners as a test, but we got there. I wasn't actually supposed to be on the first ship-" 

"You _weren't?"_ Murphy interrupts quickly, cocking his head to the side in confusion. Bellamy shakes his head, frowning a little. 

"It's a long story." He warns. "And not a nice one, either."

Murphy opens his arms grandly, almost a little dramatically, rolling his eyes at Bellamy's serious face. "We've got time, Sky Boy." 

"Alright." The older man says dubiously, turning his eyes back to the city, fiddling with his fingers. "On the Ark- that was the name of our ship- there was a one child policy. People that committed crimes over the age of eighteen were floated- executed by space. To save resources and air. My mother- she had me. Then she had Octavia seven years later." 

Murphy so desperately wants to ask why, but the dark look that Bellamy's eyes take on is more than enough for him to refrain. The question remains on the tip of his tongue, though, fighting to be voiced. 

"We had to hide Octavia." Bellamy says. "For fifteen years, she hid in this hole in our compartment whenever the guards came by. She never left our quarters- her biggest dream at the time was to just see the Earth through the window. I became a guard, eventually, which made hiding her easier- I knew whenever they were doing surprise inspections and all that." 

"One day, there was a dance. A masked dance. And- I thought maybe, you know, that she'd be safe. That'd it be okay, her face would be covered, just in and out quickly. So I let her go. And then... there was a solar flare alarm. The guards had to get everyone back to their rooms and... well, she got caught. She was put in jail, I was demoted, and my mother was executed." 

Murphy can really tell that Bellamy's trying to be brave- he keeps his voice steady, even as he recounts what could possibly have been one of the most traumatic experiences of his life. But there's no missing the slight wobble in his lip and the tremor in his hands while he speaks. 

"There was a political rift, on the Ark." Bellamy shakes himself a little, curls bobbing around his ears as he gathers himself. "Our chancellor, Jaha, was receiving a lot of backlash, especially for his plan to send the hundred down. My sister was going to be on the original dropship, and the head guard, Shumway, put down a deal for me. Assassinate Jaha, and he'll get me a spot on the ship with my sister." 

"You _killed_ him?" Murphy can't help but yelp- he's not scared, nor is he disgusted, but morbidly fascinated by the character that was Bellamy Blake, with his proud demeanour and a chip on his shoulder that he couldn't quite shake. This story seemed to only contribute to the image of this mysterious man that he was concocting in his head

"I tried." Bellamy laughs bitterly. "I missed, but I got onto the ship, and Jaha survived." 

Murphy's not sure what to say to such a personal story, something that Bellamy seemed to carry the weight of every waking second. 

"Thank you for telling me." Murphy says, kind of dumbly. 

"It's fine." He sighs, deeply- he looks years older, in this light. "Besides- I've got a much better shot now." 

The silence that stretches on feels a little fuller than it's past emptiness- there's something there, something that Murphy can't quite identify. Maybe it's understanding. Maybe they're understanding one another. The minutes they choose to be quiet are filled instead with the sounds of Polis retiring for the night, only to come back full force in the morning.

"You might have heard of Octavia, actually." Bellamy says casually, quickly- it's an obvious attempt to move on from the previous topic, and Murphy allows it. 

"Have I?" Murphy says, deadpan. 

Bellamy looks at him, a proud lilt to his mouth. "The call her _Skairipa,_ down here." 

Murphy's eyes bug out at the alias, and maybe his jaw drops to the floor. 

"Your sister is the _Skairipa?"_ Murphy hisses, glaring at Bellamy. "And you didn't _say so?"_

Bellamy shrugs, looking amused at Murphy's amazement. "She's Trikru, actually. She's still back at Arkadia, taking care of things while Clarke and Abby and I are gone." 

" _Death from above."_ Murphy muses. "So that's where you learned Trigedasleng? Octavia?" 

Bellamy nods, perking up a little at the memory of Murphy's misstep only the few days prior. His body is vibrating with suppressed chuckles, and Murphy finds his lip sticking out in a childish pout, an expression that only Raven and Echo had the pleasure of seeing. He tucks his lip back in, smoothing his face over once more. 

" _Yes."_ Bellamy says in Trigedasleng. " _She taught me, and a lot of our people. With the help of Lincoln."_

" _Lincoln kom Trikru?"_ Murphy asks confusedly. " _Didn't he get banished?"_

Bellamy shakes his head, raising his brow a little. " _I think I've told you enough for the night. It's getting late."_

Murphy's not sure why, but he feels faintly disappointed when Bellamy moves away from him, making his way to the door. 

"We can meet again here." Bellamy says quietly, a faint smile playing at his lips. "Tomorrow night, if you'd like. And you can tell me a story." 

Murphy rolls his eyes, and pointedly ignores the bloom of satisfaction he feels in his heart at the request. 

"Another date, Sky Boy?" He teases. "You're getting desperate." 

Bellamy doesn't get flustered, nor does he take on that endearing blush of his. He instead grins- a real, genuine smile that reaches his warm eyes and splits his face. Murphy didn't know he had dimples, but now he does, and honestly, he's not quite sure what to do with that information. 

"Good night, Ambassador." Bellamy murmurs amusedly, and Murphy watches as the last of his figure bobs out of view as the man exits the roof. 

Then he's alone, on the top of this drafty old tower, smiling to himself as he watches over the city and tightens his cloak around him. 

He's alone, but he doesn't feel lonely. Not really. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter @505daytime xx


	3. the fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven sips from the goblet, her mouth twisting into a disgusted grimace, before passing it off to Luna, their fingers brushing ever so slightly. Murphy watches his friend suppress a flinch, but Luna doesn't seem to notice, swigging from the drink with ease before placing it in Titus' waiting hands. Raven's fingers, made for building and taking apart, tremble slightly as Luna slips on a delicate ring made of sea glass and stone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologise. i really thought i could stick with a consistent updating schedule. i know. boo me. to make up for it i added more clexa and seamech scraps as promised. 
> 
> chapter warnings- references to murphy's past, which includes mentions of drug abuse and alcoholism

The day of Raven's wedding is sunny- light shines down on the city while they get ready inside, seeking solace from the almost unbearable heat. Raven, Murphy and Echo, so used to the cold and chill of Azgeda, are practically melting, every window flung open for even the minimal coughs of wind they receive from their higher floor of the tower. 

"I'm going to die." Raven mutters, as Echo zips her into a ceremonial robe. It's a navy blue gown, simple, with white details on the sleeves and hem, not too different from the one Lexa wore. "I'm literally going to die." 

"Oh, a cloud will come by and bring some shade, I'm sure." Murphy says soothingly, a rare moment of sympathy, letting out a quiet " _a-ha!"_ when finding a comb _finally,_ after digging through Raven's belongings for what felt like _forever._

"No, not the _heat."_ Raven scowls, glaring at him through the mirror. "I'm getting _married._ To _Luna."_

"Yeah, the Luna you've had an unbearable crush on since we learned she escaped the conclave- when we were children?" Echo rolls her eyes, yanking crossly at the zipper that was caught on the fabric. 

"I have _not!"_ Raven all but shrieks, whipping around to glare at a nonchalant Echo. 

Murphy scoffs. "Come on- you've always loved a rebel. Remember Finn?" 

Echo erupts into raucous laughter as Raven throws the comb at Murphy, hitting his head with perfect aim, sounding a loud _smack!_ "Shut _up!_ We do _not_ speak about that-" 

"Is everything alright?" 

The three of them freeze where they stand, craning their necks towards the doorway to see a surprisingly awkward looking Lexa. Murphy's never seen the commander look out of place, but here she was, shifting her feet and looking at them with wide eyes. 

"Yes, Heda." They fluster, straightening up and nodding their heads respectfully. 

"What brings you here, Commander?" Echo asks politely, finally pulling the zipper up after a particularly violent tug. 

Lexa looks at the three of them a little strangely- Murphy can't quite identify what it is he's seeing her eyes. "I just wanted to personally tell you that Raven is expected at the ground floor for her union soon. If you are fit to deliver her at the moment, that is." 

"Yes, yes, absolutely." Raven says, slapping at the comb Murphy was trying to push into her hair. He yelps as he sees her pull the locks up into a lopsided ponytail, all of his attempted hard work gone to waste, and marches down the hall with Echo chasing after her, faint argument about her hair floating down the hallway. 

"You three are close." Lexa comments observantly as Murphy smooths down his shirt in the mirror quickly. He looks at her curiously, wondering why he was being addressed. 

"Yeah." Murphy says dumbly. "Yeah- uh, Raven and I have been friends since we were children. Made our way into the royal ranks together with Echo." 

Lexa smiles, and that emotion Murphy hadn't been able to understand comes back full force, her sad eyes contrasting starkly with the curve of her mouth. 

"That must be nice." She murmurs kindly. "While I am most fortunate for the opportunities I've been given, I didn't have the most free of childhoods." 

Murphy realises very suddenly what it was he was seeing flooding Lexa's eyes- _longing._ She seemed wistful, of Murphy's friendship with Raven and Echo, something she seemed to have never quite tasted herself. It hits him that Lexa was only a child when she won the conclave and ascended- so no, she didn't have much of a childhood at all. 

"Why don't we have a friendly spar, after Raven and Luna's wedding?" Murphy blurts, immediately inwardly groaning when he sees Lexa's confused sideways glance as they enter the elevator together. "I'm sure it'll be a good way to blow off some steam, but keeping yourself busy in a relaxing manner. I'm sure I could pick up a few tricks from you." 

He prays to every one of the past commanders that Lexa doesn't strike him down for pitying her, because he _doesn't-_ not only would befriending the commander be an _extremely_ useful asset, but he's looked up to her since he watched her ascension as a teenager, in awe of the nightblood that stained her hands and the warpaint that covered her eyes. 

She looks calculative, her eyes narrowed as she considers his offer. 

"Okay." She says softly, as the doors creak open, and they make their way towards the seating area. "I would enjoy that." 

Murphy smiles at her once, awkwardly, but with as much friendliness as he can muster, before they part ways. Bellamy's looking at him suspiciously, but Murphy doesn't offer him an explanation. 

The gong sounds, signalling the start of Raven's union, when Murphy plops himself down next to Bellamy. Raven and Luna look striking in this harsh sunlight- Luna's abundant curls wrap her head like a halo, and Raven looks undeniably beautiful in her ceremonial gown. A powerful duo, strong. Deadly. 

Azgeda and Floukru would certainly benefit from this alliance. 

Raven looks distinctly nervous, as she stands by a significantly calmer Luna. Murphy notes Luna smiling at his friend, soft and reassuring, maybe a little excited. Luna's always actively chased a challenge, sought out the adventures. To marry a stranger, to marry a different culture, a different _world,_ would be the ultimate quest. 

"What's the deal with Luna being a nightblood?" Bellamy mutters- Murphy suppresses a flinch, realising how close his _ally-stranger-friend-husband?_ was to him, his low tones sending a chill up his spine. 

"Not right now, Sky Boy." Murphy snaps back. "There's a wedding going on." 

Bellamy snorts, amused and a little surprised. "You're not a _romantic_ , are you, Ambassador?" 

Murphy whips his head around at breakneck speed, his mouth dropping open and spluttering. 

"I am _not."_ He hisses with as much force as he can muster. "I am _not_ a _romantic._ What a stupid question." 

Bellamy has a faint smirk on his mouth, one that infuriates Murphy to no end, shrugging lightly and holding his hands up innocently. "Alright, alright. _Relax."_

"I _am_ relaxed." Murphy scowls, crossing his arms petulantly. "I'm relaxed. Calm. Very collected." 

Raven sips from the goblet, her mouth twisting into a disgusted grimace, before passing it off to Luna, their fingers brushing ever so slightly. Murphy watches his friend suppress a flinch, but Luna doesn't seem to notice, swigging from the drink with ease before placing it in Titus' waiting hands. Raven's fingers, made for building and taking apart, tremble slightly as Luna slips on a delicate ring made of sea glass and stone.

Murphy hopes she doesn't fumble with her ring. 

He glances down at Bellamy's hands, intertwined comfortably in his lap, the silver glinting menacingly in the sun. Murphy scowls to himself, pointedly not looking down at his own hands. He feels itchy, too warm and a little sticky in his robes under the unrelenting sun, and he's sure that his skin is pinkening under the heat. 

The crowd cheers as the ceremony is completed, and Raven and Luna walk back into the tower hand in hand- interesting, very interesting; Murphy hadn't done that with Bellamy, and nor had Clarke and Lexa. 

* * *

A servant knocks at Murphy's door not long after he's arrived back in his room, where Raven and Echo sit on the bed chattering about the wedding- they've deemed his room as the official headquarters for the three of them, he supposes with a frown. 

"The Commander has invited you for a sparring session down in the courtyard in half an hour, Ambassador." The servant squeaks. "Do you accept?" 

Murphy's eyebrows flick up, but the invitation isn't an unwelcome surprise. He just didn't think Lexa would be so eager so quickly. 

"Yes, thank you." He says, and the servant scurries off. He turns to see a skeptical Echo and a confused Raven. 

"What's that about?" Echo asks as Murphy rummages through his clothes, looking for more appropriate clothing to spar in. 

"I'm sparring with the Commander." Murphy looks at her like she's stupid, before continuing his search. "We discussed it before the wedding." 

"Good play." Raven says approvingly. "Getting closer to the Commander. Nice political move. Roan would be pleased." 

Murphy feels strange, hearing Raven explain his actions like that. In all honesty, it _would_ be a great political tactic, to befriend the Commander. She held the fate of the Coalition, including Azgeda, in her hands. 

But it wasn't supposed to be a political tactic. 

"Yeah." He echoes lamely. "Politics." 

The half hour is spent on the hunt for his training pants, and his room looks like a tornado had hit it by the time he finds them. Raven and Echo had quickly excused themselves when the second shirt went flying across the room as he dove into his bags. 

He's still flustering about his belt as he enters the elevator absently, cursing to himself underneath his breath as he finally gets the clasps right and straightens up, only to see an amused looking Bellamy and a smiling Clarke. 

"Fuck." Murphy blurts quickly, and Clarke can't seem to keep in the peal of bubbling laughter that rings through the elevator. 

"Going somewhere?" Bellamy questions, his arms crossed in front of him. Murphy bites the snarky remark on the tip of his tongue- " _wouldn't you like to know?"_ sounds especially tempting, right now. But he's civil. He's here to be _civil._

"Sparring with the Commander." He says coolly. "In the courtyard." 

Bellamy's mouth is opening to say something, but Clarke beats him to the chase, recovering from her bout of giggles. 

"We were on our way there!" She pipes up, and Bellamy glares at her- oh, if looks could _kill._ "We'll watch you." 

Murphy fights the frown that's curling on his face, training his expression into something more neutral and relaxed. The elevator is vibrating as it descends slowly, and he silently prays for it to move just a _little_ bit faster. 

"If you insist." He grumbles, and the elevator doors open with a resounding creak. They walk on a paved path, a neat little cobblestone, lined with blooming flowers of all colours. Bellamy and Clarke are conversing in hushed tones a little ways behind him, but quieten immediately when the path takes them underneath a stone arch and into a wide courtyard. 

It's one of Murphy's favourite places in Polis- the large, grassy area is circled by the path where he's walked many a time with Raven and Echo, with tall, dark trees to shade them from the sun. It's quaint, not at all like the intimidating tower that loomed over it. 

Lexa's waiting there for him, but Murphy notes her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Bellamy and Clarke trailing behind them.

"Murphy." She acknowledges politely. "Bellamy. Clarke." 

"Hi Lexa." Clarke mumbles- Murphy whips his head around, hearing how _shy_ her voice sounded. Murphy, granted, didn't know the blonde very well, but who hadn't heard about the bold leader of the Sky People? Fierce, determined and _dangerous._

Not _shy._

Lexa tosses Murphy a sword without fanfare- the blade is a polished silver, heavy in his hand, but he's used to this weight. It's dull, not at all for slicing through skin and bone. He swings it in a loop once, experimentally, and again when he's satisfied with the movement. Murphy feels Bellamy's eyes burning a hole into him from where the two Sky People sit in the grass. In the corner of his eye, he sees Bellamy stretch his legs out, propping his weight on his arms. 

Lexa and him circle one another slowly- it's like a dance, slow and methodical. Lexa's the best warrior in the world, but Murphy likes to think that he's able to punch above his weight. He's always been an underdog. 

The Commander predictably strikes first- she jabs at him swiftly, but he easily dodges it before slicing towards her. 

The sun beats down on them without relent- Murphy can feel his hair sticking to the nape of his neck, sweat trickling down onto his back. Lexa seems mostly unbothered by the conditions, save for the faint flush in her cheeks and the sheen on her skin, but she doesn't stop her blows. Murphy's proud, that he's held his own for these few long minutes. 

Jab, jab, parry, dodge. To the left, roll, kick, dodge. The movements come to him naturally, if not a little rustily. He's an advisor now, but everyone had been a soldier in Azgeda. 

"Need a break yet, Heda?" Murphy taunts. A split-second of confusion spreads on Lexa's face before she realises he's joking with her, _teasing_ her. It's then that Murphy realises that Lexa's reputation precedes her, and a little good old-fashioned humour, the snarky type with a tinge of deprecation, is a rarity in her life. 

"Do _you?"_ She shoots back, and Murphy's proud to see it roll off her tongue easily, even as she swings her sword in an arc where Murphy's head had been (and would have been woefully bruised had he not ducked). 

They've circled one another to the point where Bellamy and Clarke are in his direct line of sight, and in a moment of distraction, Murphy takes a millisecond to look at his- his _husband._

Bellamy's eyes seem trained on Murphy's form, his mouth slightly parted. He's red in the face, a result of the sun? Clarke seems to be appraising Lexa the same way, furrowing her eyebrows and looking away quickly as she notices Murphy watching her. 

He doesn't have much more time to mull it over, because Lexa knocks him to his ass, disarming him effectively and pointing a sword at the jugular of his neck. Murphy takes a moment on his back in the soft grass before he takes Lexa's offered hand, and he's pulled back onto his feet. 

"You fight well." Lexa compliments, tossing his sword back to him. "You would be an excellent soldier." 

"I _was_ an excellent soldier." Murphy puffs his chest a little. "But advising has more perks, less chance of death. Sounds like a better deal to me." 

Lexa rolls her spine, twisting the cricks out of her neck with a satisfied smile. 

" _Ambassador_." She whispers in quick Trigedasleng, so fast that even Murphy almost can't catch it. " _I believe your husband is your newest fan."_

Murphy doesn't glance at Bellamy right away, but blushes a furious shade of puce, narrowing his eyes at Lexa's teasing tone. The Commander lets out a _giggle-_ an honest to Pramheda _giggle,_ and Murphy can't help but let the scowl melt off his face. He allows himself a quick look at the pair of Sky People, only to see their eyes firmly trained on Murphy and Lexa fighting- have they even blinked, at all? 

" _Oh p_ _lease, Heda."_ He swings his sword in a figure eight movement, showing off just a little extra, preening under the extra attention. " _Blondie didn't take her eyes off of you the entire time."_

It's Lexa's turn to look a little mortified, her mouth falling open in shock, before her expression is smoothed over once more. Murphy's a little anxious, for a second, seeing Lexa's trained air of cold come back so easily, but her mouth curls slowly, into a smirk. 

" _I don't see why she wouldn't."_ She says, her brow lifted a little. Murphy lets out a bark of surprised laughter, eyes widening at the quip. 

_"Alright, Heda."_ Murphy grins, baring his teeth at her. " _Let's give the Sky People a show."_

* * *

"Hey." 

Murphy pauses where he's walking on the pavement, turning to see Bellamy following him a little awkwardly, his pace in between a walk and a brisk jog as he motions to catch up with Murphy. Behind Bellamy, Murphy sees Clarke approaching Lexa in the centre of the grass, where the Commander is sheathing her swords. 

"Hi?" Murphy says uncomfortably, his pitch raising into a question at the end, and slowly continues his walk, this time with Bellamy besides him. 

"You were really good." Bellamy scratches his curls stiffly, pointedly avoiding looking at Murphy. "With the swords. Just now. Very good." 

There's something about the older man's stilted speech and pink dusting his cheekbones that has questions swirling through Murphy's head, but he tucks them away for thinking about another time. 

"Thanks." Is what he settles on- it's a cautious syllable, but grateful either way. The tension between the two of them as they walk towards the elevator is palpable, deafeningly awkward and has sparks singing all through Murphy's nerves. 

"After your first spar with Lexa, I heard you say you were a soldier once." Bellamy pipes up. "I didn't know that." 

Murphy cocks his head, confused as to why Bellamy _wouldn't_ know, before quickly remembering his heritage. 

"If you want to rise to the royal ranks, you have to start as a soldier." Murphy explains. "Even the king trained in the army before the coronation." 

Bellamy makes a little satisfied noise at the back of his throat, and for a few seconds, it's quiet once more. The two of them hover in front of the elevator doors, hoping maybe the lift would take a little less than five minutes to reach them. 

"Is that why you became a soldier?" Bellamy asks curiously. "To become an advisor?" 

There's a little twinge in Murphy's heart at the question, memories that he's long since tried to bury resurfacing. He wants nothing more than to keep the dull ache to himself, but he remembers how honest Bellamy had been with him at the top of the tower. Perhaps he owes it to him. 

Maybe he _wants_ to tell him. Tell _somebody._

They enter the lift together- the elevator begins it's ascent with a creaky groan.

"It's a long story." Murphy mutters.

Bellamy's face falls in a dejected manner, but Murphy hasn't finished speaking. 

"I'll meet you at the top of the tower again." He says softly the doors begin parting to let Bellamy out onto his floor. "Tonight, after dinner." 

Bellamy quirks his lip up, pressing them together in a poor attempt to stifle his excitement, to no avail. It's a tad endearing, and Murphy can't help but roll his eyes savagely in an attempt to ignore it. 

"See you then, Ambassador!" Bellamy walks backwards out of the elevator, his gaze on Murphy while the doors begin to slide closed. Murphy fights the urge to raise a very rude finger just for the sake of having to have something to argue about, but instead pastes on a sickeningly sweet smile, one that could only be interpreted as sarcastic, just as the doors slam shut. 

* * *

It's just as warm as it was the other night when Murphy finds the roof, only to already see Bellamy waiting there, sitting on the ledge, legs dangling over the side. He hadn't noticed Bellamy slip away from dinner to be here so fast, but here he was. 

"Eager, are we?" Murphy announces his presence, his heart jumping when he sees Bellamy startle where he sits on the ledge.

Okay, maybe he shouldn't be surprising the man standing on the roof of the tallest tower in the land. 

"And if I am?" Bellamy asks, raising an eyebrow. Murphy opens his mouth, a hot remark dancing on the tip of his tongue, but ends up choking on his words, unsure exactly what to say to that. 

" _Hmph_." Is what he settles on, before swinging his legs over the edge and sitting next to Bellamy. He leaves at least two feet of space between them- they're close enough that Murphy's words won't get blown away by the wind, but far enough that Murphy doesn't feel the warmth radiating off of Bellamy's body in the sticky summer heat. 

"So." Bellamy starts, a little stupidly. "You." 

Murphy sighs, glaring at him from the corner of his eye. "Yeah. Me." 

He takes a few deep breaths, focusing his eyes on the lights of the city sparkling as the sun creeps over the horizon- really, he doesn't think he could ever get used to this view. 

He _is_ getting pretty damn used to the heat, though- he feels unbearably warm inside his robes, but he's not sure if he can chalk it all up to the . 

"I was born in a small village on the outskirts of the Ice Nation." Murphy starts, cautiously. "Raven was my neighbour. I had a happy family, for the most part. Poor, but happy."

"One day, I got sick." Murphy's injecting every ounce of casualty into his tone, his voice detached from any and every emotion. "And we didn't have medicine. Raven tried to help, but her mother was hoarding all the medicine for herself. Addicted to them. So my dad- well, he panicked." 

Bellamy's listening quietly, giving off the air of morbid fascination, brows furrowed and mouth twisted into a poignant frown. 

"He tried to steal medicine from one of the richer families in the village, and got caught." Murphy swallows the lump forming in his throat, pointedly staring at the city of Polis sprawled below them. "He was executed on the spot." 

Murphy remembers the day like it was yesterday- how in his dazed fever, he wasn't able to stop his father rushing out of their small shack, dark hood covering his face. How his mother sat by Murphy's side, clutching his hand like a lifeline, even though he was so sick out of his mind that he could barely feel it. How Raven had slammed through their creaky old door with tears streaming down her face and a broken voice, telling Murphy's mother that she had to go to the town square, had to go _now._

"It was only the flu." He whispers. "I got better the next day." 

The city starts to look a little blurry, so Murphy blinks the sting out of his eyes, relaxing his face until all the tension melted out and adopted his signature bored look. Bellamy looks horrified, his body twitching like he wants to close the two feet between him, comfort him, do _something._

Murphy's glad he doesn't. 

"My mother started drinking." He continues. "I found her dead in a pool of gin a year after my father was killed." 

Murphy ignores the little choked sound Bellamy makes, but he keeps going, powering through the story. 

After all, he desperately wanted to finish it. 

"Raven's mother had died, by then. So we enlisted together. Became soldiers- Raven permanently damaged her leg, but was more useful in the war meetings then the actual field anyways. She got promoted to chief battle strategist first. Then not long after, I became the general's advisor- the general being Echo. Then I became the King's advisor, and had the pleasure of being shipped off to Polis to marry a stranger Sky Person." 

"That's where I come in." Bellamy says softly, and Murphy can't help the amused smirk that crawls onto his face. 

"That's where you come in." He echoes. 

They're quiet for a while. Murphy can practically hear the cogs working in Bellamy's mind as the older man tries to find the words. Murphy lets him ponder, instead turning his attention to his legs- he kicks them over the ledge awkwardly, looking all the way down. 

It's a hell of a drop. Murphy idly wonders what it'd be like to fall. 

"Thanks for telling me." Bellamy says quietly. "I'm sorry that happened." 

Murphy shakes off the well-wishes, uncomfortable with sympathy. "It was a long time ago. And I like where I am now." 

Bellamy lets out a quiet chuckle, just to fill the air. 

"I like where you are now, too." He says simply, and Murphy's heart skips a short beat.

Bellamy's _flirting_ with him. Now this- this is dangerous waters.

He fights a traitorous smile, to no avail. Instead of dignifying the remark with an answer, Murphy stands up, his feet finding the roof and he dusts his clothes off. 

"We're travelling to the Ice Nation tomorrow afternoon." Murphy reminds Bellamy gently. "It's colder. And a longer journey." 

"Yeah, yeah." Bellamy rolls his eyes at Murphy's apparent mother-henning. "I'll be fine." 

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Murphy wags a finger at him, eliciting a snort from Bellamy. 

"Go to bed, Ambassador." Bellamy demands, but it's teasing, the corners of his brown eyes crinkled by a genuine smile. "I'll see you in the morning." 

It's strange, how that statement doesn't make dread pool in the pit of Murphy's belly. 

"Good night, Sky Boy." Murphy answers easily, but it lacks malice. 

Affection. It's affectionate. 

Murphy chooses not to ponder it on the lift down to his floor, desperately pushing any thoughts of Bellamy Blake out of his mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> talk to me on twitter @505daytime or tumblr @oliivverwood ! <3


	4. homeland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy looks far from the threatening leader of the elusive Sky People- instead he looks very much like a normal man.
> 
> A normal man that's tired in the morning and accidentally puts his shirts on backwards and forgets to comb his hair. It's all so mundane- something that Murphy didn't think the powerful Bellamy and Clarke were capable of. 
> 
> Murphy doesn't really know what to do with this realisation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is chapter four!!!!! weeeeeeeeeee!!

Murphy's down in the main dining room of the tower at the crack of dawn the next morning, popping grapes into his mouth as he waits. He's the first one up, but he knows Raven should be down any minute, preparing for her trip to the Floukru territories with Luna. 

Lo and behold, he's right, and he flicks his eyebrows up in acknowledgement at her as she trudges out of the elevator. They're used to this early type of schedule, from their days in the army- they'd had to wake up at sun's first light every day before being put through gruelling hours of training and exercise. Even when they'd been promoted into the royal ranks, duty always called, and Murphy would find himself going to sleep in the wee hours of the morning before having to wake up and do it all over again. 

"Nervous?" He nudges Raven, who's pursing her lips at the wide selection of cured meats and fish. 

"That obvious?" She replies wryly, piling food onto her plate and sitting next to him. "I've never been to the Boat People's- wherever they are! Aren't they in the middle of the ocean on a floating bit of metal?" 

"An _oil rig."_ Luna corrects, stepping out of the elevator to their surprise. 

"Ah." Raven says dumbly at the sight of her wife, her face flooding a furious red. It takes all of Murphy's energy to fight the snicker that threatens to sound. 

Luna squeezes Raven's shoulder, and the latter squeals. "My people will welcome you like one of their own. There is nothing to worry about, Raven." 

"I wasn't worried." She mutters unconvincingly, before shovelling food into her mouth. Murphy's thoroughly amused. 

"Too bad we're missing Echo's wedding." He pouts. "I feel bad." 

And he did- Echo had been helpful to the both of them in the preparations for their weddings. Unluckily, Lexa ran a very tight ship, and with a tight ship came a tight schedule. Murphy and Bellamy, as well as Luna and Raven, were to leave first- followed by Echo and Emori and Jasper and Monty- before Lexa herself would make the journey to the Ark after overseeing all the weddings. 

"She gets it." Raven says thickly after swallowing. "She told us not to worry." 

The elevator sounds with a rusty " _ding!"_ and the last traveller of the group finally arrives. Bellamy, unlike the rest of them, doesn't seem to be the type to willingly wake up at such an early hour, and is rubbing his bleary eyes roughly with the heel of his palm. His hair is strewn, even more unruly than it normally is, and Murphy's quite sure his shirt is on backwards. 

"Your shirt is on backwards." He says delightedly. Bellamy startles, looking down quickly and groaning. 

"Don't care." He yawns, before sitting at the table next to Luna, across from Raven and Murphy, and slumping over. His eyelids flutter tiredly and pillowmarks line his face. 

"Come on, Bellamy." Murphy jabs. "Seize the day." 

"Couldn't I have seized the afternoon?" He mumbles, finally straightening up and picking at a slice of bread crankily. Bellamy looks far from the threatening leader of the elusive Sky People- instead he looks very much like a normal man.

A normal man that's tired in the morning and accidentally puts his shirts on backwards and forgets to comb his hair. It's all so _mundane-_ something that Murphy didn't think the powerful Bellamy and Clarke were capable of. 

Murphy doesn't really know what to do with this realisation.

* * *

Their bags are loaded onto the horses as the sun begins to creep higher on the horizon. Polis is waking up, the bustle of the morning markets sounding in Murphy's ears as he clasps the last of his belongings onto his steed. 

"Good boy." Murphy mutters to Viktor, feeding him an apple slice as a reward for good behaviour. He turns to Bellamy, who looks up at his horse with a mixture of awe and fear, his hands feeling her neck with apprehension. 

"Is there an issue with Delilah?" Murphy raises an eyebrow as he mounts his horse, looking down on Bellamy confusedly. 

"I've- I've never been on one." Bellamy snaps, narrowing his eyes at the animal suspiciously. "I'd never even seen one until I got to Polis." 

Murphy's mouth dropped. "You've _never been on a horse?_ How did you _get_ to Polis?"

Bellamy looks at him like he's stupid. 

"I lived in _space."_ He says slowly- and yeah, Murphy thinks he might've deserved that one. "We took the rover." 

"Well, by all means." Murphy gestures towards Delilah. "Take your time." 

Bellamy shoots him one last glare before taking a deep breath. He swings his leg over it awkwardly, until he's half balanced on the back of the horse. The animal whinnies, and Bellamy's eyes widen. Thankfully, Delilah doesn't move, standing patiently until Bellamy's scrambled and manoeuvred himself into a straddling position. 

"Don't." He warns Murphy, who's covering his mouth, shielding his poorly concealed laughter from the man. 

Bellamy becomes more tangible, more human, to Murphy with every day that passes by. Less of a concept, less of an accessory to the Coalition. 

Not Bellamy Blake of the Sky People.

Just Bellamy. 

* * *

They'd spent most of the ride to Azgeda so far in silence- Bellamy had fallen asleep on Delilah's back at one point, soft snores floating through the quiet air. The rides get boring, long hours spent on horseback being very tedious, but the view as they ride along the border of Azgeda and Polis is one Murphy could never get sick of.

The sun is higher in the sky as time ticks on, the heat beating down on them. There's not a cloud in the sky on this warm summer day, and Murphy frowns, glaring at the clear blue up above. 

A cloud would be nice. Just today. 

Murphy also takes the time to survey Bellamy as he sleeps. It's remarkable, how different he looks in this light, unconscious to the strange world around him. His brow is relaxed, his mouth slightly, ever so slightly, upturned. All the tension has faded out of his muscles as he slumps over the neck of his horse. 

It dawns on Murphy that Bellamy falling asleep here, right now, is the greatest sign of trust he's ever expressed. He's in a foreign land, riding a strange creature, married to a man he'd met barely a week prior- and he was _asleep._

Bellamy _trusted_ Murphy. 

He didn't know if that was naïve or endearing. 

Murphy keeps a careful eye on their surroundings as the horses clip-clop on the beaten path to Azgeda. These paths, while mostly safe, had been ransacked by thieves often before Lexa had stabilised the Coalition. Each rustle of the trees, each snap of a twig, had Murphy's hand inching closer and closer towards his scabbard, worried for not only himself but his sleeping companion. 

Murphy's well aware that Bellamy can take care of himself- a gun hangs innocently from Bellamy's waist, as do multiple small knives. If he's been alive on the Ground this long, he's no stranger to either of the weapons. Murphy had yet to see him in combat, but from what the rumours that spread through the land said- he was formidable. Strong. 

Bellamy jolts awake as Delilah whinnies loudly, for what seems to be no particular reason at all. His hand snaps to his holster, fingers twitching as he looks around.

"Easy, Sky Boy." Murphy drawls, taking a swig from his canister. "Nothing but your big, bad horse." 

Bellamy scowls at him, rubbing sleep out of his eyes grumpily. "How much longer till we're there?" 

Murphy shrugs, checking his surroundings once more. "Something like two hours." 

The man rolls his eyes. "You make this trip every time you need to go into Polis?" 

"For conferences and summits, sometimes. Roan likes to be there personally though." 

Bellamy perks up at the name, cocking his head to the side. "Is that the king? You call him by his name?" 

Murphy winces as he realises his slip-up too late- for him to refer to Roan by his name without his royal titles was too casual, borderline disrespectful. It was okay, in the privacy of their fortresses, with only Raven, Echo, and Roan himself to hear, but not in public. 

"A mistake." He covers weakly. Bellamy looks at him curiously, but doesn't press. Thank Pramheda, the man _did_ have some tact. 

The wind is notably chillier the closer they get to Azgeda, and Murphy, in the corner of his eye, notices Bellamy shivering ever so slightly. He sighs, rolling his eyes. 

Sky People were so _fragile._

"I _told_ you to bring warm clothes." Murphy admonishes snappily, looking pointedly at Bellamy's silent shaking. Bellamy makes a noise in the back of his throat that resembles something like a low growl, looking up at Murphy with a frown. 

"I packed all my clothes in my bags- and I'm _not_ cold." He protests, but his quivering breath seems to think differently. Murphy glances at him once more, pointedly, before absent-mindedly shrugging off his top layer. 

"Wait, what are you-" Bellamy is interrupted by the coat hitting him squarely in the face, receiving a mouthful of fur. As it slides off his head, revealing a disgruntled expression, Murphy can't help but snicker loudly. 

"Take it back!" He shakes the coat in the direction of Murphy, who keeps his hands firmly on the reins of his horse. 

"Put it on and stop your bitching." He demands, revelling in the brisk breeze that flutters through his air and past his skin. The air is sharp, clean and pine-scented, lacking the thick, industrial humidity that of Polis he'd learned to get used to. 

"Won't you be cold?" Bellamy asks concernedly. His care warms Murphy, only slightly- not that he needed to be warmed at all. 

"I'm peachy, Sky Boy." Murphy says wryly. "I _live_ here. I'm used to the temperature, and your delicate little space-body apparently _isn't-"_

"I'd like to see _you_ come hurtling through the atmosphere in a rickety metal ship.... delicate space body my _ass-"_ Bellamy grumbles, but he shrugs on the coat anyways. Murphy watches him melt into it, sighing as he's warm once more, and can't help but feel mildly satisfied at the sight of it. 

"Even more embarrassing." Murphy declares. "You can literally drop out of the sky and survive but can't handle a little cold weather. And it's _summer._ " 

Murphy waits for Bellamy's next witty retort, his own barb waiting on the tip of his tongue.

It never comes. 

"Thank you." He says softly, and Murphy turns to see him buried in the coat, the collar of it coming up to his nose. 

And Murphy- well- 

What's he supposed to do with _that?_

"It was completely selfish." Murphy mutters, turning his head away so the Skaikru ambassador couldn't see his flushing face. "Didn't want to hear your incessant complaining for the rest of the trip." 

"Yeah, yeah." Bellamy chimes, and Murphy can _hear_ the smile on his lips when he says it. It's _infuriating._ "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ambassador."

* * *

Murphy feels an unfamiliar mixture of relief and disappointment when he finally sees the the palace. 

Relief, because he's _home._ The air is fresh and the accent on the Trig here is softer and the buildings are lower and the pavements are cleaner and the feeling he has when he's come back from a long time away from home is lodged firmly in his chest somewhere near his heart. His legs are sore from the hours of riding and all he wants to do is go back to his royal chambers and sink into his bed. 

Disappointment, well- 

He and Bellamy had a good trip. It was too bad it had to come to an end. 

Bellamy looks around the city in wonder- the people of the streets have paused their daily activities to stare curiously at the pair that approach the palace. Tittering and whispers erupt from all around them, and Murphy can only manage to pick up a few snatches. 

" _Skaikru- marriage- alliance- the thirteenth clan- he's handsome!-"_

He scowls at the sound of that last comment, remembering the day he found out Bellamy understood Trigedasleng the hard way- Bellamy seems to have heard it too, and that familiar shit-eating grin spreads across his face. 

"Did you hear that, Ambassador? They said-" 

"I will rip your spine out with my bare hands." Murphy interrupts slowly, casually- it doesn't stop the humour twinkling in Bellamy's brown eyes, but he raises his hands innocently and stops speaking. The smirk remains, and Murphy has a feeling Bellamy won't let him forget his blunder for a very, very long time. 

The gates to the palace creak open slowly, and Murphy directs his horse towards the stables easily, Bellamy trailing not far behind. Servants unclip the bags from their horses and takes them away quietly as they finally unmount, their joints creaking and tendons popping as they stretch out the cricks of the long journey. 

"So." Murphy says awkwardly, as they make their way towards the throne room. "This is where I live." 

Bellamy's neck is craned upwards as he admires the high ceilings and rustic walls- it's less of a palace and more of "the biggest building in the territory" but it does the job just fine. Candles line the walls, leaving no dark corners unlit, and when they finally enter the throne room, Bellamy lets out a low whistle. 

"Murphy!" Roan roars, echoing through the chamber. Bellamy doesn't flinch ( _of course he doesn't_ ), but his eyes widen at the sight of the famed king of the Ice Nation. Roan looks threatening, with his sheer size, raspy voice, and large crown resting on top of his head, but none of this fazes Murphy at all. He reaches his arm out, and Roan clasps it firmly, his face warm. 

"Good to see you, Your Majesty." Murphy says wryly, but smiles anyways. 

It's good to be home. 

"Your husband, eh?" Roan turns to Bellamy, an eyebrow raised, before gripping his arm in greeting as well. 

"That's me." Bellamy says- an obvious lick of sarcasm lies in his tone. Murphy expects Roan to look displeased, but instead the king just chuckles lowly, releasing Bellamy's arm from his grasp. 

"Cheeky." Roan admonishes, but it's without malice. "You two are a good match." 

Murphy and Bellamy share a quick glance before turning away from one another quickly, pouting. 

"I'm sure you're both very tired from your journey." Roan straightens up, beckoning towards unseen servants. "Please, show the Skaikru ambassador to his rooms. There will be plenty of time to talk at dinner." 

"See you later, Sky Boy." Murphy mutters, as Bellamy is guided away. 

"Don't look so eager to get rid of me, Ambassador." Bellamy mocks, before he's pulled out of eyesight and earshot. Murphy rolls his eyes anyways, just for good measure, before seating himself in his usual seat next to the throne, slumping into it and crossing his legs comfortably. 

"You two seem to be getting on just fine." Roan murmurs- he has a playful twinkle in his eye, and his tone seems to have a double meaning. Murphy's known his king long enough to know just what he was getting at. 

"He's infuriating." Murphy snaps back. "He's cranky, sarcastic, and apparently has no weaknesses except for early mornings and the _cold."_

Roan presses his lips together thinly at the outburst, shoulders shaking slightly with laughter. 

"I just said you two seemed to be-" 

"Not what you meant, Your Royal Pain in the Ass." Murphy embellishes, sinking even deeper into his chair. "Now do you want my report or not?" 

Roan sighs, settling himself into the throne. 

"You never were a very polite advisor." He grunts, but it lacks cruelty. "Speak, then." 

* * *

Dinner is a short and awkward affair- Roan is unable to attend, something about an emergency on the outer borders. Murphy knows for a _fact_ that his presence isn't required at something as silly as a village dispute, but here he and Bellamy are, sitting on opposite ends of a _very_ long table, piled with food that they wouldn't be able to even make a dent in. 

Murphy picks at the roasted deer with his fork absent-mindedly, tearing it apart into little shreds and pieces but never once putting it in his mouth. He's not very hungry, too uncomfortable, and is fighting the urges to glance up at his husband across the table. 

He loses the fight. 

Murphy takes the liberty of looking up at Bellamy, just once, only to find the man staring back at him blankly. His plate is clear, fork and knife settled on it easily. He looks at the abundance of food with something akin to awe.

"You can eat more, you know." Murphy rolls his eyes, his voice breaking the silence that had enveloped the room. They were alone, here, save for servants possibly hiding in the shadows. They were trained to be quiet, seen but never heard. 

"I know!" Bellamy blusters back, frowning. "I just- on the Ark we- we took what we were given. Never any more. The same thing every meal, every day, every year." 

Murphy cocks his head. "Well, this is what you're been given. So you can take it." 

Bellamy shakes his head, frustrated. "I've- we've never been given this much." 

Another insight into life in the sky. Murphy would be lying if he said he hadn't been dying of curiosity when he first heard of the people who fell from the stars. It seemed, though, with the few anecdotes he'd been told about life on the so called "Ark"- it wasn't all that pleasant at all. 

"And when we first landed- we had rations." Bellamy explains a little more, a little quieter. It echoes through the room anyways. 

Murphy sighs, pushing his plate away from him with finality. 

"Things are different." He mutters. "You don't need to worry about when you'll get your next meal anymore." 

Bellamy looks like he wants to protest, to protect himself from the little bit of vulnerability he'd expressed, but he ends up sagging back down, looking at the food once more with wide eyes. 

"Are these strawberries?" He points at the fruits set on the platter near him. Murphy hides his smirk, raising his eyebrows. 

"Yeah." He watches Bellamy pluck one up, inspecting it curiously. "Never had one?" 

Bellamy looks at him pointedly. "You think we had strawberry plants on a _spaceship?"_

Murphy wags his finger at him. "Nuh-uh, not that again. There were strawberries in Polis." 

The older man shrugs. "Didn't see 'em." 

He pops the berry into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. Then his face curls, lips pursing as he swallows. It's thoroughly entertaining, and Murphy doesn't even bother with fighting a laugh. 

"For some reason, I expected them to be sweeter." Bellamy grumbles- Murphy is bent over himself, slapping the table with laughter, his amusement seemingly endless. 

It's for this reason that he doesn't see Bellamy gazing at him fondly, strawberry-stained lips turned upwards in the faintest traces of a smile. 

* * *

It's just turned dark, night spilling over Azgeda when the two of them exit the dining room. Murphy and Bellamy seem to circle each other awkwardly, a silly game of " _what-now-what's-next? Do I stay? Do I go?"_

Murphy shifts his weight as they reach the bottom of the staircase, the one that leads up to Bellamy's chambers. 

"Do you want to see the city?" He blurts, as Bellamy's hips flinched to turn away. Bellamy's mouth quirks upwards, just a little. 

"Let me go get something warm to put on." He mumbles quickly, before bounding up the stairs two at a time. It seems that only moments have passed when Bellamy is back down the stairs again.

"Eager, are we?"' Murphy calls teasingly as Bellamy rolls to a stop in front of him. 

"Shut up." He responds easily, tightening the coat around him. He _has_ found something warm to put on, but- 

it's his. 

It's Murphy's coat. 

He doesn't comment on it, but he must've been staring (he was _definitely_ staring)- and Bellamy just stares defiantly back. 

"I'm not unpacked." He shrugs nonchalantly. "And it's warm." 

"That's the point." Murphy shoots back, but it's weak. He turns on his heel, stomping away, hoping that the cool Ice Nation air will pull the flush out of his cheeks. Bellamy's hot at his trail. He doesn't know how Murphy's stomach seems to be eating itself right now. 

"Where are you taking me?" He grunts, and _damn_ his long legs, because he's caught up to Murphy easily, effortlessly, and even has to _slow_ down so they can walk side by side. 

"Anywhere." Murphy mutters. "Everywhere." 

Bellamy has his eyes up, alit with wonder at the abundance of _people,_ the lifestyle that had been so carefully curated, the peace that King Roan had painstakingly fostered. A baker runs by with a tray of buns, and Murphy quickly plucks two of them off, replacing them with two gold pieces in one swift motion. 

"Made fresh." Murphy holds the bun out to Bellamy, who takes it slowly.

He holds it up curiously, eyebrows furrowed as he inspects it. Murphy rolls his eyes as he tears into his own bread, savouring the warmth that it brings.

It tastes familiar. It tastes like home. 

"Oh, eat it." Murphy snaps, elbowing Bellamy sharply in the ribs. "I'm not trying to poison you." 

Bellamy looks at him strangely, letting out a wary chuckle. "You wouldn't." 

A pause. 

"You _wouldn't!"_

"I wouldn't." Murphy quickly amends, but now Bellamy is glaring at the bun suspiciously. "But I _could."_

"That's... not comforting at all." Bellamy sighs, but ends up ripping a piece off, tossing it into his mouth. 

"Wasn't supposed to be." The advisor responds cheerfully. 

They walk together in silence- but it's filled easily by the village. Music wafting out of homes, chatter from the bars. Couples walk by hand in hand, warriors return home, setting their spears outside their doors. 

"Trade between the other clans and the Ice Nation would be easier with rovers." Bellamy comments absently, watching as another horse trots by them on the cobbled street. "More holding capacity, faster travelling time, less people required to transport it." 

Murphy looks at him a little strangely. 

Bellamy glares back. 

"What?" 

"I forgot that you're actually apart of this.... _arrangement_ for a reason." Murphy snickers. Bellamy looks affronted, and opens his mouth to protest. Before he can speak, Murphy stuffs the rest of his bread roll into his mouth, stifling whatever speech he was about to make. 

And the sight of Bellamy, stood still with wide eyes as his mouth is stretched open by a comically large piece of bread is- 

it's _hilarious._

And no amount of music wafting out of homes, chatter from bars, horses clip-clopping on the cobbled street, could drown out Murphy's cackles ringing up and down the city. 

When he finally recovers, Murphy grabs Bellamy's wrist gently, hopping into a run-down pub that looked more like a hole in the wall than an establishment. All a part of it's charm, he supposes, finding two seats at the bar.

"You buying me a drink?" Bellamy scowls after a couple minutes of petulant silence. It almost sends Murphy into another peal of laughter, but he refrains, waving the bartender over. 

" _Two glasses of your strongest_." He calls in Trig. The bartender grunts his acknowledgment.

Bellamy sniffs the cup, not flinching at the pungent scent of alcohol. Murphy sips at his, fighting the grimace. 

"Aren't you supposed to have booze this strong, in like, shots?" Bellamy looks at his glass warily. 

Murphy gestures at the glass. "By all means, if you think you can down that in one go, be my guest, Sky Boy." 

"Shut up, Murphy." Bellamy sighs, before taking a large gulp. He doesn't cough, which is admirable, and his face barely sours. He smacks his lips, running his tongue over them slowly. 

Murphy tears his eyes away. 

"Tastes like Monty's Unity Juice." He finally concludes, taking another sip. "It's awful." 

"Unity Juice?" Murphy asks confusedly. 

"On the Ark we had this thing called Unity Day. We celebrated it on the Ground, this year, and Monty made this- I don’t even know how to describe it." Bellamy swirls his glass around, eyes trained on the liquid within it. "Unity Day was a celebration of the twelve stations joining together after the nuclear apocalypse. It's a- it _used_ to be a whole event, on the Ark. With the same speech and performance every year." 

"Tell me some of it." Murphy demands, and okay, this alcohol _is_ very strong. Somehow, his glass is already empty, and he waves at the bartender once more. 

"You want me- the _speech?"_ Bellamy grumbles. "Fine. Okay- uh- something about how the stations were apart, blah blah blah- until _one day, Mir floated by Shenzhen. The two stations realised that life would be better if they worked together to survive. Later on, the other stations saw Mir and Shenzhen working together and wished to join them, thus creating the Ark."_

Murphy claps slowly- even though it's drowned out by the other noises of the bar. "Sounds an awful lot like the Coalition." 

Bellamy purses his lips together thoughtfully- his eyelids are lower, his mouth curled into a resting smirk as he sips at the second glass of still that the bartender placed in front of them. 

"Guess it does." He mumbles. "What's in this, Ambassador?" 

Murphy's heart kind-of-sort-of-maybe skips a beat at the sound of the nickname, dutifully ignoring it. 

"I don't know." Murphy says, horrified at how his words seem to be slurring together. "I haven't ordered this drink since I came here with Raven and Echo. As teens." 

"Low tolerance, old man?" Bellamy teases, and his words are kind of mixing together too. _Hah._

Murphy glares at him. 

He's never been able to resist a challenge. 

(And he'd _never_ resist one from _Bellamy)_

In one swift gulp, he finishes his drink, the alcohol burning the back of his throat as it slides down into his stomach. Bellamy rolls his eyes, following suit. It seems to go down like water- he's unflinching, uncaring. 

"Another one!" He calls up the bar, and Bellamy lets out a low chuckle that sounds like music to his ears.

* * *

"Oh, I'm going to be hungover for the- the _thing_ tomorrow." Bellamy mumbles woefully. "The _thing."_

Murphy knows exactly what _thing_ he's talking about, and the realisation sinks into his stomach like a pit, settling down next to the alcohol queasily. Empty glasses line the table in front of them 

"Roan's gonna be _so_ pissed." Murphy groans. "How's he 'sposed to announce our marriage if we're hungover? It's gonna be so _noisy._ " 

"It gon' be so bright." Bellamy moans. "The- the _sun."_

"It's- s'no problem." Murphy mumbles, patting Bellamy's back. "Just go up in that spaceship of yours and- and get _rid of the sun."_

Bellamy laughs, loud and bright. The pub is emptying, people leaving their gold pieces and glasses as they make their way home, leaving just the two of them, with a few stragglers and drunkards in the dark corners, and the tired looking bartender for company. 

"I'll take you with me." He slurs. "I'll take you to the stars." 

Murphy rests his head against the bar, his warm cheek cooling against the polished wood. 

"That'd be nice." He whispers. "I like the stars." 

Bellamy tries flicking his ear- he tragically misses, then finally lands a shot. It stings, and Murphy looks up to glare at him. 

The two of him. He's seeing double, apparently. 

"Home time." He singsongs, grabbing Bellamy's hand. He's reminded, just quickly, just for a flash, when they'd bound their arrangement in blood. 

His hand still fits perfectly, slotted in Bellamy's larger one. Their fingers lace together comfortably, callouses and scars pressed together. It's gentle- not at all like the handle of a sword or the trigger of a gun. 

Just Bellamy and Murphy. Hand in hand. 

Bellamy doesn't comment on it- instead squeezes tighter as Murphy pulls him up, throwing a satchel of _who fucking knows how many_ gold pieces on the bar. Whatever. It's the palace's money, and what Roan doesn't know won't hurt him. 

"Come _on!"_ Murphy grunts, pulling Bellamy along the street faster. Bellamy's not balanced- of _course_ he isn't, he's a drunk stranger in a foreign land- and Murphy ends up tugging him too quickly. The larger man barrels into Murphy, and they both stumble. 

Murphy closes his eyes as he falls, waiting for the moment he collides with the pavement. 

And he waits. 

But it never comes. 

Because Bellamy has an arm securely around his waist, and his face is inches away as he holds him up, leaning over him carefully. 

And they stand there like that, for a moment that seems to stretch on into an eternity, alone on an empty street. They're illuminated by the moonlight, and Murphy's close enough to count his freckles. 

_(I'll take you to the stars)_

"Thanks." He mumbles, ripping his gaze away from Bellamy as he's pulled up, righted once more. 

"No problem." Bellamy whispers back. 

The rest of the walk back to the palace is quiet, tense in the good, uncomfortable, _do-I-dare-speak?_ kind of way. 

Murphy's not used to this feeling at all. 

This feeling, that makes his heart feel like he's sick and he's fever hot and his stomach is in knots and it's _got_ to be the alcohol, or maybe he's actually _sick_ but being sick doesn't feel like this, doesn't feel _good_ and-

what is he supposed to do with _this?_

When they finally come to a stop at the bottom of the staircase, where their roads come to a fork, Bellamy turns to him as he slowly walks up the stairs. 

"Good night, Ambassador." He says, smiling slightly. The light flooding through the windows of the palace strikes Bellamy and wraps his head like halo of twists and curls, and Murphy stares dumbly for a second before coming to his senses. 

"Good night, Sky Boy." Murphy murmurs back. 

It had been. 

Bellamy doesn't turn back again as he walks up up up the staircase and disappearing out of view- and thank Pramheda he didn't. 

Because Murphy had stood there, watching Bellamy go, his head bare and his heart punching out of his chest so hard that he would've probably seen it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, bellamy kind seems stupid in this chapter. he's getting used to grounder customs and culture.... so its not ooc (i think)! just wait till murphy visits the ark ;)
> 
> my twitter is @505daytime and my tumblr is @oliivverwood!! kudos and comments are very appreciated <3

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me @505daytime on twitter <3


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